by
Pamela J. Tarchinski
Copyright 2010
Registered WGAw
FADE IN:
INT. KITCHEN
White dinner plates on cream painted knobby-knee
table boast mac ‘n cheese, roasted sausage -
table boast mac ‘n cheese, roasted sausage -
PAMM
What would you do -
If really you knew -
That 20 one two -
As the Mayans predicted -
As the Mayans predicted -
Would be...
The end?
Rick = silence. Pamm waits. Waits, waits.. . waits.
PAMM
A question was asked,
an answer is expected.
an answer is expected.
Ah, the suffering women put to their men -
RICK
I’m thinking!
Men. Women always got to get them started -
PAMM
I’d say thank you and GOODbye to
family and friends.
(uproariously)
And I’d push 92% of our neighbors
into the pond!
Sees a smile glimmer Rick,
knows the conversation is rollin’ -
PAMM
I’d fix up a small house,
I’d plant a garden,
put in an orchard.
RICK
An orchard! You think you’d get
fruit within two years?
Waves her hand, that isn’t what matters.
PAMM
Not like acres, more like
six or eight trees. An allee.
RICK
Would you espalier them
like you’ve always wanted?
PAMM
No. Not enough time to do that.
RICK
I’d re-visit all the places we’ve been...
California, South Dakota...
PAMM
Really!? I wouldn’t go anywhere
I’ve ever been.
RICK
Juarez.
PAMM
Ah, Juarez. I remember Juarez.
Hot sun, cool air, bright people
with a good sense of humor.
Tiny little green fruits
they call them lemons
but really they’re limes.
Sweet. Can’t visit Juarez anymore,
too dangerous. Drugs. Requiem for Juarez.
Moment of silence for mourning.
PAMM
Three days Paris,
three days Rome.
Cha-stun.
Ss-rimp 'n grits.
I think 'grout'
is the past tense of 'grits'.
'Least when I make 'em.
Ss-rimp 'n grits.
is the past tense of 'grits'.
'Least when I make 'em.
RICK
Run up our cards to the max!
PAMM
I’d rather pay off all our debts.
RICK
How else you gonna’ do it!?
It isn’t like the money
suddenly appears when
you want something. Especially if
there’s a clock on it.
Even though those guys on
Oprah say it does, it doesn’t.
(thinks)
It’s probably not a good idea
to let the banks hear
I’d run my credit cards up
to their limits.
Meditates -
RICK
Maybe it’d be a good time
to visit some holy places.
You know, make pilgrimages.
PAMM
Like where?
RICK
Well, Palenque. Machu Picchu,
Lhasa. Mecca, The Wailing Wall.
PAMM
I don’t thinkwe’re allowed there,
are we?
RICK
Ya’, I think we are,
as long as our heads
are covered.
PAMM
They put notes into The Wailing Wall.
What would your note say?
RICK
Hello.
PAMM
Hello means, “the God in me
recognizes the God in you”,
did you know that?
RICK
No.
PAMM
Not Disneyworld.
Both laugh ‘til they cry, thanking God!
PAMM
Four days for Lyon.
And that place Samantha Brown went to called Ez.
I mean, Ez. You have to visit a place that calls itself Ez.
(dawns)
I bet Ez-erians come to America
and get all excited when they see
we have EZ Marts but really,
they’re E-Z Marts which are like...
Sticks her tongue out, crosses her eyes, bobbles her head.
RICK
RICK
Would you bring home a French Poodle?
You’ve always wanted a Poodle.
PAMM
A GIANT French Poodle, maybe red, probably black.
I’d almost certainly name him Fleur. Flurrie!
RICK
France is going to make a bundle
off this 2012 deal.
PAMM
But no. It would take more
than a couple of years to train me
to train a dog so no, no giant Poodle.
(wistful)
Doggone it.
I would take in another cat, though.
Rick reaches for a dented book lying nearby.
PAMM
Samantha Brown went someplace in England
that looked tasty, too. Starts with a ‘C’...
RICK
Cornwall?
PAMM
Maybe. Guess we would have to run up the cards.
RICK
I suppose the noble thing
would be to continue on with life as usual.
PAMM
Whoopee.
Thumbs through the crinkling plastic-wrapped book.
Book's called, SWEETY PIES -
RICK
Forget France, forget Julia,
I’d bake my way through this woman’s cookbook
you found at the library.
Hey! She’s from Michigan!
PAMM
You’d run up our cards
and make us both fat.
I’d pay off all our debts,
skip rope and eat to
finally get myself down to 125.
finally get myself down to 125.
How did we ever manage to stay married 37 years?
Slides the cookbook 'cross the tabletop to her -
RICK
Pick a pie, any pie and I’ll bake it for you.
Peruses pages -
PAMM
Mmm... tangerine meringue.
Rick gets up, leaves table,
hunts fridge and cupboards, gathers ingredients -
hunts fridge and cupboards, gathers ingredients -
PAMM
Thirty seven years.
If it all really does end in twenty-twelve,
we won’t get to see 40.
Gee, that’s sad.
I think, if I had my druthers,
I’d spend more time
smooching your cute little ears.
smooching your cute little ears.
She tackles him. The pair disappears from view -
FADE OUT.
THE END.
YOUR TURN!
What in the world would YOU do, between now and then?
Blog on and tell everyone!
YOUR TURN!
What in the world would YOU do, between now and then?
Blog on and tell everyone!
(Scroll down, click on "comments", add your voice.)
Peace and lovebeads, fellow planet dwellers.
The ancient Mayan long count calendar ends on the winter solstice of 2012 A.D. Doomsdayers’ of every conceivable stripe have already began to pimp their versions of what the ominous Mayan calendar date means for the rest of us, usually culminating with tales of the end of the world. I would argue that there is a minor but profound distinction between "the end of the world" and "the end of the world as we know it". Interestingly enough, the Hopi and the Mayan have a similar concept of time, believing it to be cyclical...meaning the end of time is not seen as a single point on a linear line, but rather an end of one cycle and the beginning of a new one. Seen in that light, the message of both the Mayan and Hopi is not about doom or destruction but rather about transition and awakening. After all, the world "as they knew it" has already long since ended.
ReplyDeleteEven though I would concede that no one can really predict what will happen on the evening of the winter solstice in 2012, I'm pretty confident that the next day will be similar to the previous, and so forth. I'm not sure my actions would be any different than if I had been diagnosed with some fatal ailment and given just two short years to live. I mean, is there really a difference between the following hypothetical queries:
What would you do between now and December 22, 2012 if you knew you were going to die on that date?
What would you do between now and December 22, 2012 if you knew you would lose your spouse on that date?
What would you do between now and December 22, 2012 if you knew you would lose your Mother, Father, or sibling on that date?
What would you do between now and December 22, 2012 if you knew the world as we know it would end on that date?
I think not. At any rate, I believe my actions would be more or less the same in response to either of the above questions. Because all of humanity ceases to exist at the same time really doesn’t change the fact that the gravitas of such a finite conclusion is no less profound, even if the occurrence is experienced collectively. I know one thing for sure: I’m a bit reluctant to generate my very bucket list. Not so much because I’m afraid to face my own mortality, but because I’m afraid of what such a list would say about my life. Would a long list mean I have lead a life unfulfilled? Would a short list mean that I am shallow, or worse - content? It’s all so humiliating…to be emotionally naked; to expose all of your unfulfilled ambitions. With that being said, here goes nothing….
1. Hike the Appalachian Trail (…and no, this isn’t code for “shag some chick in Argentina”)
2. Speaking of Shagging, I should probably take Shag lessons; after all, it is the sate dance.
3. Complete a multi-state barbeque tour via Winnebago.
4. Take the back roads to Florida in a Triumph TR6 convertible, entering through the panhandle by way of Alabama.
5. Participate in a civil war battle reenactment.
6. Visit Europe
7. Complete the enormous silk screen print I have had in my head for twenty years
8. Learn to play the banjo
9. Teach my daughter how to can vegetables
10. Take a steamboat tour of the Mississippi Delta
11. Have coffee and beignets at the Café Du Monde in New Orleans
12. Write a novel
13. Catch a bonefish on a fly rod
Wait…this is ridiculous. Adding all of these new things to the list when I have so many unfinished things to complete seems so pretentious. Hmmm…Perhaps I should just take a look around and list all of the unfinished things in my immediate vicinity that I need to complete first:
1. The bottom third of that Ruffino Chianti.
2. The last two fingers of that Basel Hayden bourbon I got before Thanksgiving
3. The little piece of quarter round molding missing from the Kitchen island
4. The remainder of Tuesdays meatloaf
5. The rest of the opened bag of Chips Ahoy cookies….
There. All done.