Archive for May, 2011

Dog Days- A One Minute Play about Work

DOG DAYS

SETTING- Professional and Convivial Corporate Office.

ALEX-  Excuse me, you wanted to see us?

SUPERVISOR-  Thank you for letting us interrupt you lunch.

 TERRY –  That’s fine.  We’re happy to do it.

 SUPERVISOR –  This is our Human Resources Liaison.  Come  . . .  Sit.

HUMAN RELATIONS DIRECTOR-  The two of you are the strongest of the new candidates and we wanted to know how the training met your needs. (No response from the trainees) . . . Alex why don’t you speak.

ALEX-  I feel like I was given clear job expectations and a good idea of how to manage the day to day tasks.

 SUPERVISOR-  (Accidentally dropping a pen) Sorry, would you fetch my pen? (As Alex begins to stand).  Stay! (Alex is caught in a crouch position- which s/he freezes in)

TERRY-  For me, one of the most helpful aspects of the training was gaining an understanding of the corporate culture here.

SUPERVISOR-  I’m happy to hear that.  Catch the imaginary treat. (She tosses an imaginary treat into the air, Terry catches it in her/his mouth.)  (To Alex) Down. (Alex sits.)                                                   

HUMAN RELATIONS DIRECTOR-  Alex, how do you feel about the guidelines for disciplinary action?

 ALEX-  I agree with them. I think that they appropriate and fair.

SUPERVISOR-  (To the Human Resources Director) Of course each one of them has their own strengths but both came down the learning curve beautifully.  Terry, sic em’.  (Terry attacks Alex.  They tussle)

 HUMAN RELATIONS DIRECTOR-  I just don’t know why I can’t get my dogs to do that.

SUPERVISOR-  They’re not employees.

HUMAN RELATIONS DIRECTOR-  Good point.  Terry, Alex- Play Dead. (Terry & Alex- rollover and play dead)

LIGHTS UP


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100 plays, 50 playwrights, One-Minute

I have said this before and I will say it again and probably a couple of times after that.

I am a woman who can say the least amount of information in the most amount of words.  Some of the time it is grammatically correct, other times punctuationally inventive but most for the most part it’s just lengthy, inane, occasionally smart, perhaps a bit repetitious and it always beats around the bush.  I like to call it my style, my artistic form, my swagga. (Don’t you love it when I get all gangster?)

This talent- and I call it a God given talent- really worked in my favor during essay exams in school- (6th grade through Ph.D. with the one exception of Ms Balutanksi’s Social Studies Class, Junior year.  She was strictly multiple choice- which, of course, had it’s own advantages.)  When writing a play, I have the ability produce so much material that it takes a team of highly trained CSI’s to figure out the plot-line, which is great because everyone knows how difficult it is for CSI’s to find work in this economy.

I often like to trot out this artistic flair during the most exciting parts of movies, while writing e-mails about the best cat litter, and during sex.  I have also been told by my loved ones that it is especially appreciated when they’re are in a hurry to get off the phone or have a hangover.   Upon occasion, people have requested, that I “get to the point”.  Rather than get upset I simply remind myself that they are jealous because of their own woeful concise articulateness.

In certain circles I know that my gift is viewed as dendrite upon the world of polite dinner chit-chat.  What they don’t know is that I use it like a super-power to prevent me from ever getting another invitation where I have to pretend to be the perfect corporate wife.  (Although, I am grateful that my sweet husband is part of a corporate milieu that allows me the sheer, shimmery luxury of being an unfettered “artist”. (Air-quotes provided by my husband- but only with the nicest and earnest of intentions.)

All of that being said, It takes me a long time to get to the meat . . . .  and then along comes “Mr One Minute Play Man”, Dominic D’Andrea, waving his sixty seconds around like some kind of an annoying show-off.  So, I thought to myself,  “They don’t think I can do this.  Well, they got another thing coming.  I’ll show them and then they’ll be sorry.  All of them!  I’d write a one-minute play and a good one and I won’t cram it with words . . .  just out of spite.

Chicago’s One-Minute Play Festival May, 16 & 16
Experience this new play genre.