Thursday, August 20, 2015

Monologue Mania Day #554 Flight Tea (for Book of Teas) by Janet S. Tiger Aug. 20, 2015

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day- for a whole year-and still going!
                                                                    first year -  Feb. 13, 2014 - Feb. 13, 2015
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Monologue Mania Day #554 Flight Tea (for Book of Teas) by Janet S. Tiger  Aug. 20, 2015

          This is the same character from Days # 15, 41-53, 69, 84, 96, 105, 118, 156, 173, 175-8, 181-5, 269, 331, 361, 452, 506.  Southern accent.


                                Flight Tea
                                               (for Book of Teas) 
                             A monologue by Janet S. Tiger   © all rights reserved  2015                                                                                    tigerteam1@gmail.com 
 
        (T enters, still an older woman with a Southern accent)


I was cleaning out a closet one day - this is when I still had the energy to deal with decisions bigger than should I take the white pill first or the little green one that always slips through my fingers and I find them under my back in bed when I'm trying to go to sleep.
When you are younger, going through things you have collected has a certain enjoyment.  You look at pictures of holidays from years before, bringing back fond memories.
There is a note from a child, usually a niece, now married, thanking you for a gift that is probably long ago broken.

Or perhaps some souvenir of a trip with a friend  when you went to see a show in the big city of Atlanta.
Memories flood back, filling your brain.  For an instant, you are there.  It is like a time machine.  Only when you throw away these items, does the memory go with them?  You are afraid to find out, so you save these things.
But perhaps the moth-eaten sweater can go, and maybe the half-empty box of jujubes from the movies.  Is it hoarding to save these old things? 

Then suddenly, one of the items brings up a fight - and you feel the gorge rise in your throat - I always loved that expression because what did it mean- the gorge rising?  Was it like the river during a storm, when it is rising but has not yet overflowed its banks? 
And then I had a revelation - almost as big as the one when I knew I was going to marry Harry.  Always liked sayin that, too - Marry Harry.  It had a certain ring to it I would say, and then I would show people the ring he gave me.  People would always smile, even when I said it a hundred times.

The item found was in a closet with bathroom cleaning chemicals - the item was a toothbrush.
It was old and dirty, but it brought back the exact moment of that incredible argument, one of the defining fights of our marriage - especially because it was over - as usual- something so incredibly insignificant as to always make us laugh afterwards at the stupidity of the fight.
I had taken Harry's toothbrush - because it was old and needed replacin - and had given it Mary to be used for cleaning the bathroom grout.
Harry saw it in the bathroom by mistake - it should have been put with the cleaning supplies back in the closet, but had been left out by accident, as Mary had been interrupted.
He brought it to me like a knight whose sword has been broken, waving the filthy brush in my face.
'Is this what you think of me? Were you planning to have me use this brush after it had been used to clean our BATHROOM?’
Even though I knew it would not help the matter, for some reason, I could not resist the urge, and told, 'but it was only used for the shower, honey, not the toilet.'
He was not amused by this.
So I had to explain the circumstances, and then he demanded a new brush - which, because I had been interrupted, had forgotten about purchasing.  That he would believe I would use his brush in the toilet, well, that made me furious.  That and the fact he was yellin at me at the top of his lungs that I did not care about him.

This comment allowed me to bring up matters from before our wedding to prove how much I loved him.  This did not help of course, as men cannot recall events - other than sporting ones, of course - beyond a day or two.

Why do you bring up what happened in ancient history?  That was a million years ago, I am talkin about today!

There is no way these arguments ever change - the argument may start with a brush, but it is sure to dissolve into unpleasant memories of pies that were burned, appointments not kept, children awakened, flowers trampled, turkeys thrown out - the list is long, but it is not that varied.  Every couple has a long one - and it is added to yearly.

 But one is never fighting about the item - our argument was never about the toothbrush- or the onion soup that I neglected to include the celery in - or the shirt I gave away because it had a hole in it - or the myriad of excuses to have a yelling battle that couples choose because they cannot figure out how to get back into the bedroom without some kind of show.
 
The fight is about something much deeper - the never fixable problem every single couple has - that they are not the same person. 

That's when I had the revelation.  For years, I had been hoarding the memories of our fights - like the hundreds of glass jars for jam I never would put up again.  Or the magazines I never had time to read.  Or the pretty little holders from the candy.......
The memories - the pain- was hoarded and was taking up precious space in my head- in my soul.  And I suddenly knew - almost like opening a door and letting out the moths -that by understanding this hoarding, I was letting it go.  That I didn't have to be angry over that fight - at him, or at me.  Or for the thousands of other arguments we had had.
This was such a powerful sensation that I had to sit down and think about for a moment, all the while, holding the toothbrush.
I almost took the brush and made it into a little monument, but in the interest of what I had learned, I took the filthy thing, and, with a deep sigh, threw it out.
I no longer needed it to remind me of all the things I needed to let go of - I could remember them, and let them be.
Fly away from my heart and soul, to leave space for new adventures, new friends, new emotions, new memories.
That's why I called this Flight Tea.
Did this mean we never had another fight - of course not!  How silly would that have been!  We were still not the same person, so there will always be that moment where the doors do not shut properly and there is a discussion about why. 
But the pain that comes with bringing up the past fights, well, that was gone.
Gone With the Wind.  Now there's a hell of a title.  Even if it doesn't have any tea in it.

     (Lights down.  End of scene)

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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8



1 comment:

Jennifer Silva Redmond said...

I like it all, but I love this line: "The fight is about something much deeper - the never fixable problem every single couple has - that they are not the same person." Wish I'd written it!