Monday, October 31, 2016

Monologue Mania Day #992 No Matter What by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 31, 2016

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free* monologue a day- -and still going!

first year - Feb. 13, 2014 - Feb. 12, 2015 second year - Feb. 13, 2015 - Feb. 12, 2016 third year - Feb. 13, 2016 - today! *********
I've continued with a monologue a day until the spirit moves me to stop, so if you have any ideas for a monologue you want me to write, please let me know at tigerteam1@gmail.com.

If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues- for a list of the titles and blurbs from each day, click here There are now over 960!

Get more great award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com

If you'd like to write your own monologues, I happen to have a book for that -

How to Write a Monologue in 10 Easy Lessons (Well, maybe not so easy)

Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site. Wishing you much success!
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Monologue Mania Day #992 No Matter What by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 31, 2016

No Matter What
A monologue by Janet S. Tiger © all rights reserved

tigerteam1@gmail.com

(The woman is older, but not ancient and she is fuming, but holding it in as best as she can)

Are you finished? Well, my turn! I heard what you said, and you have tried to squash my enthusiasm for years, and you have tried to squash my enjoyment of the sunsets, and of talking to strangers, and I know it is because you are depressed, but I do not have to be depressed with you! I am not responsible for your depression - which you refuse to get help for - and I refuse to be sucked into the blackness of its depths with you!

You can hate getting old, hate being alive for so long, hate getting up and hate.....everything! - but I don't!

And maybe I'll remember to keep quiet about my happiness, or maybe not....but no matter what, I am going to continue loving life.....and I am going to keep on talking with people, and keep on enjoying a beautiful day....and I am going to enjoy.....being alive, because....

NO MATTER WHAT...I still choose to be happy!

(Turns to leave, stops,looks back)

Were you even listening?

(Goes over, looks, nods)

Of course. Sound asleep.

(Tucks in father.)

No matter what, still love you.

(No matter what...she exits)

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Janet S. Tiger 858-736-6315 CaregiversAnon.org

JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com

www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com

Member Dramatists Guild since 1983

Playwright-in-Residence

Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

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* Note: A few words about 'free' - all these monologues are protected under copyright law and are free to read, free to perform and video as long as no money is charged. Once you charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me for royalty

Sunday, October 30, 2016

Monologue Mania Day# 991 Halloweenie by Janet S. Tiger Oct. 30, 2016

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free* monologue a day- -and still going!

If you'd like to write your own monologues, I happen to have a book for that -

How to Write a Monologue in 10 Easy Lessons (Well, maybe not so easy)

Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site. Wishing you much success!
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Monologue Mania Day #991 by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 30, 2016

Halloweenie
A monologue by Janet S. Tiger © all rights reserved

      tigerteam1@gmail.com

   (The same older lady comes onstage that we met in Day #261's monologue - NO KETCHUP!
This can be done as a continuation of Day # 261 - or it can stand on its own, with the actress making the most of the physical actions.  She is now carrying a paper bag, along with herpurse and cane.   We can hear her muttering)

No ketchup, no ketchup, there had better be no ketchup.....

              (She proceeds to start opening the bag, peering in)

I can't believe it, I actually fell for this ridiculous advertising! Halloweenie! A hot dog just for Halloween....well, if they put on ketchup, they had better be scared, because I'm not gonna be happy....

   (She removes the hot dog from its wrapping, it looks big to start, but by the time she actually gets to the hot dog, it is much smaller.)

(Very annoyed) Well, I am not surprised! If it got any smaller I'd need a microscope to find this weenie!

(She goes to take a bite.)

Nothing personal, Mr. Weenie, but you are goin' right back if I see one drop of ketchup!

(She takes a big bite and her face is a mixture of horror and surprise. She opens the bun and stares)

(Sputtering) Amazing! I told them MUSTARD and NO KETCHUP! And they have the gall to put on both  mustard AND ketchup! What sacrilege will they dream up next!

(She takes another bite and shakes her head)

And the worst part is......I like it! (Confused) But I also hate change of any kind! Damn them for forcing me to question my own opinion! What a world!

(She stares at the hot dog, shakes her head, then finishes it)

And I am goin' to get another one!

(She reaches into her purse, waves her cane.)

Can you hear me in there you idiots? I want a hot dog, but with mustard AND ketchup! Think you can get it right?

   (She turns to leave, stops, looks back)

Talk about a scary Halloween....I may have to even question everything I know, everything I learned in school, maybe even my religious beliefs! (Thinks) Nah......

   (She exits and we hear her now saying.....

Trick or treat if I don't get my hot dog with mustard AND ketchup! Mustard AND ketchup! But...NO RELISH! NO RELISH!

  (The end. And maybe the end of no ketchup!)

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First posted Day# 261 by Janet S. Tiger Halloweenie Oct. 31, 2014

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Janet S. Tiger 858-736-6315 CaregiversAnon.org

JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com

www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com

Member Dramatists Guild since 1983

Playwright-in-Residence

Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

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Saturday, October 29, 2016

Monologue Mania Day #990 The First Reading by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 29, 2016

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free* monologue a day- -and still going!

If you'd like to write your own monologues, I happen to have a book for that -

How to Write a Monologue in 10 Easy Lessons (Well, maybe not so easy)

Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site. Wishing you much success!
- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monologue Mania Day #990 The First Reading by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 29, 2016

The First Reading

by Janet S. Tiger

tigerteam1@gmail.com

Firsts.

I am about to have a first reading of a full-length new play, CAREGIVERS ANONYMOUS, and I cannot help but remember other first readings of my work.

Several of the actors and the director - now dear friends - from THE WAITING ROOM, my first San Diego production, will be involved with this reading, 35 years after.

Another friend from 30 years ago who founded Playwrights Project - which is sponsoring CAREGIVERS ANONYMOUS - will be the dramaturg.

Full circles.

Completion.

Some of the friends from my very first reading are no longer on this earth. The man who made sure no one attacked me after my first reading went over four hours! And resulted in a new rule for the group - over by 10:30 or it's over!

I can remember that night as if it was yesterday, not 36 and a half years ago. The worry, the frantic last minute printing of 10 scripts that were 120 pages long, the collating, the mistakes, the joy in hearing my words, the absolute horror in the realization -within two pages!-that there were too many words, WAY too many words.

That worry is still with me. I have never written anything near that length since - and I doubt if I ever will. The lessons learned that first night have stood me well, as my work has been published and produced all over this great world. (And maybe one day, throughout the universe!) Some of what I have written has needed editing (maybe that last line?) , but nothing like the first. And yet, without that, I would not be here.

And I am grateful to all those along the way for the help and guidance and understanding and support through all these shows, too many to count any more, too many to remember. But that first one will always be....unforgettable.

(Turns to leave, stops looks, back)

Am I still nervous? Even though this play is only 36 pages? You betcha!

(Laughs as I exit to another first)

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Janet S. Tiger 858-736-6315 CaregiversAnon.org

JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com

www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com

Member Dramatists Guild since 1983

Playwright-in-Residence

Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

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Friday, October 28, 2016

Monologue Mania Day #989 True Confessions of a Modern Day Scheherezade by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 28, 2016

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free* monologue a day- -and still going!

If you'd like to write your own monologues, I happen to have a book for that -

How to Write a Monologue in 10 Easy Lessons (Well, maybe not so easy)

Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site. Wishing you much success!
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Monologue Mania Day #989 True Confessions of a Modern Day Scheherezade by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 28, 2016

For more info on 1001 Nights -https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/One_Thousand_and_One_Nights

True Confessions of a Modern Day Scheherezade

by Janet S. Tiger

tigerteam1@gmail.com

(No disguise, the actor is me....the writer!)

When I started this blog, the goal was - crazy! - one year of writing monologues.
My dear friend, Jonathan Dunn-Rankin, said it was..' an almost Herculean task.'

One a day, each brand new.... (ok, I cheated a bit - I used some monologues from earlier years, edited and updated of course! but still, most were completely new)

Yet a funny thing happened over the year. The first month, then 100 days, was hard - especially because of my real world situation.(moving-out of house we'd lived in over 25 years! and I can be a bit of a hoarder, so you do the moving math, plus sickness -my son was graduating and had two operations in that 3 months, my daughter was struggling in her classes and I was also taking care of my father -then 90- and my husband, who had had a stroke a year and a half before.

Yet I prevailed, the first 100 days passed, and some of those early monologues started to be performed. (AARP Conference in Oregon - thank you Jeff Tabler)

The year moved on, and as I approached the end of year one, I realized I did not want to stop!
Like Scheherezade forced to tell one story a night so she wouldn't be killed, it was as if I had to write for my life. That the writing was something....just for me. And so I continued into year two, then rounded the corner into year three as I applied for a grant....which I received in May 2016, and which I am working on right now. (CaregiversAnon.org)

My surrounding life? Funny you should ask! It is, if believable, even busier! I have no need to move.....but am still sorting out the move from two and half years ago. And I now need to take care of more people....including worry (which is it's own bizarre form of care) ....for two dear friends struck with the delightful (not) ravages of age.

So I am approaching 1000 monologues.....like Scheherezade, I am almost ready to ask for my life...and perhaps the King will see the children....the monologues and plays that have grown from these stories, many performed and with awards.

Was there a Scheherezade? (And why didn't she spell her name more easily!)

Or was there a writer trying to figure out a way to link 1000 stories? Who was that writer? And what happened to him/her?

Will I stop at 1000? (okay maybe 1001) Will I stop at all? Not completely I think. The discipline of writing every day has been incredible. And so have the rewards. But perhaps I have learned the discipline and can write without having to prove it....enabling me to write longer items. We'll see.....only ten more days to go!

(Turns to leave, stops, looks back)

Okay, 11, but who's counting?

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Janet S. Tiger 858-736-6315 CaregiversAnon.org

JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com

www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com

Member Dramatists Guild since 1983

Playwright-in-Residence

Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

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Thursday, October 27, 2016

Monologue Mania Day #988 Pinned by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 27, 2016

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free* monologue a day- -and still going!

If you'd like to write your own monologues, I happen to have a book for that -

How to Write a Monologue in 10 Easy Lessons (Well, maybe not so easy)

Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site. Wishing you much success!
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Monologue Mania Day #988 Pinned by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 27, 2016

Pinned

by Janet S. Tiger

tigerteam1@gmail.com

(An older woman comes onstage, she is dressed in a nightgown and is holding
something in her hand)

Pinned. Funny word. (She is thinking)

When I was a 14, I had my first boyfriend, and we got pinned.

(She looks down, and she can almost see the pin on her gown.)

I think I still have that pin somewhere in the attic. A little gold heart that he won at the County Fair. Jody - he had such nice brown eyes.

(Remembering, smiling)

That was so lovely.

He was a wrestler, and when he won a match, they would say he pinned the other fellow. Same word. But in some ways, he pinned me that way, too! We got married young, and that kind of pins you down, but I didn't mind.

Then we had children, and we didn't have throwaway diapers back then, so the diapers had to be pinned using these - (she holds up the package) safety pins.

If you got it right, it was ok, but if you poked those little hineys, oooh, that was not a quiet moment in the middle of the night! (She laughs, then is quiet)

He was in the Marines during World War II - some of the worst battles of the Pacific, and he told me whenever it got bad, and the bullets were thick, when they were...pinned down.....he would think of me, and somehow that helped him get through.

He almost lost his leg on Okinawa, but they pinned it back together, and even though he limped, he was still my same Jody with the brown eyes, and I wish he were still here to dance with me, limp or not.

(She moves as if dancing, starts to sway, stops)

Now I can barely move, but somehow, when I get into bed, I roll, so, my granddaughter had an idea. When she first suggested it, I was not exactly happy. But after I fell out of bed one night, I decided, maybe, just maybe she was right.

Even though you get old, you can't be tied to all your old ideas - maybe I should say you can't be pinned to them?

Anyhow, that's who I'm waiting for now - my granddaughter, who is going to have me pinned –into my bed. So I can sleep. You see, she takes these safety pins, and she pins my nightgown right onto the sheets. Shoulders, knees, and I’m fine. I don’t roll out of bed.

Pinned.

Who'd a thought?

(She starts to walk offstage.)

Honey, I’m ready to go to sleep! I need to be pinned!

(When she is almost offstage, she turns back - she’s thought of something.)

There is a bright side – she has yet to stick me in the hiney!

(She exits. The end.)
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Original post Day # 4 Pinned by Janet S. Tiger (c) Feb. 16, 2014 all rights reserved tigerteam1@gmail.com

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Janet S. Tiger 858-736-6315 CaregiversAnon.org

JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com

www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com

Member Dramatists Guild since 1983

Playwright-in-Residence

Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

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Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Monologue Mania Day #987 Asked by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 26, 2016

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free* monologue a day- -and still going!

If you'd like to write your own monologues, I happen to have a book for that -

How to Write a Monologue in 10 Easy Lessons (Well, maybe not so easy)

Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site. Wishing you much success!
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Monologue Mania Day #987 Asked by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 26, 2016

Asked

by Janet S. Tiger

tigerteam1@gmail.com

(The woman is older, dressed in clothes that are clean but frumpy. She is tired, but not beaten, and she listens, then shakes her head)

What exactly do you want me to say?

You want to know why I did this?

But I told you.....they asked.

Maybe you don't understand what that means to someone like me, young lady. You have a nice figure, and I'll bet you're married, maybe twice, with a trainload of old boyfriends, and you don't have any idea what it's like.....not to be asked.

That was me. No girl ever asked me to a party, or to be a maid of honor at a wedding. No boy ever asked me to a dance. Maybe it's cause I'm quiet. I can't help that, my folks were quiet. After they died, sometimes I forgot they were gone because it was the same quiet.

And so I decided to be a nurse's aide, because I'd already done most of the stuff for my folks before they passed, my Dad first, then my Mom.

When I started working, it was like.....the same as before. The old people in those homes are the same as the young people - some are nice, some are mean. But Belle Hackey, she was nice, I think my first real friend ever.

She was still all there, and she would talk to me, and I could tell she was sorry when I had to leave, so I would come in early and sit with her. She was different from the others, she didn't just talk, she listened to my stories.

And she was funny, she would say, 'I was a Belle when I was young, and now I'm a Hackey!' and she'd cough, because she was a smoker. And she was dying of cancer.....and there was nothing left to do. When it spread to her pancreas, she was in pain. A lot of pain.

That's when she asked me. You know, to help her. And I did. Because she was my friend, and I couldn't see why when a dog was suffering you put them out of their pain, but a human, we torture them until the very end. Why? I don't know. All I know is....she asked me.

And her family was happy, they loved her, but her daughter knew, she looked at me and said, 'thank you' and she hugged me. And we both knew the truth.

All the laws don't mean anything when someone you love is screaming in pain and the next shot the next drip, the next pill.....isn't for two hours.

And so I moved on to other homes. And made friends. I only helped the people who were nice to me. You say it was cruel. Well, I can tell you cruel. There was an old man, Jethro Stone....and he was like a stone, hard and cold. He asked me to help him.....but I didn't, because he was nasty. Was that cruel? You be the judge.

And when you convict me of...what is it you say, eight murders, and you sentence me to death....is that cruel? You tell me.....

(Lights down.)

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Janet S. Tiger 858-736-6315 CaregiversAnon.org

JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com

www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com

Member Dramatists Guild since 1983

Playwright-in-Residence

Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

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Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Monologue Mania Day #986 The Clock (chapter 1) by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 25, 2016

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free* monologue a day- -and still going!

If you'd like to write your own monologues, I happen to have a book for that -

How to Write a Monologue in 10 Easy Lessons (Well, maybe not so easy)

Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site. Wishing you much success!
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Monologue Mania Day #986 The Clock (chapter 1)by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 25, 2016

The Clock (chapter one)

by Janet S. Tiger

tigerteam1@gmail.com

Chapter 1

Most people don't know, but Henderson James did, exactly what changed his life forever. It was a clock. Well, maybe not A clock, but THE clock.

Henderson had been born in the era of the end of analog, and had grown up in a home bereft of machines that told time in any other but digital mode.

Everywhere he looked in his home there was a digital reminder of the time - over his crib when he was born, in every room, and outside on the door, along with the safety buttons, lights, emergency request slide bars and thermometer.

Henderson had barely any knowledge of the analog clock - as he was brought up in schools that were living computers - and therefore digital was king....or queen....or ruler....whichever pronoun you preferred. And digital was enhanced by the lovely sounds of the gentle robotic voices that would answer all questions - What day is it today? 'Thurs-day, Jan-u-a-ry Nine-teenth, two thou-zand-se-ven-ty one. And what time is it? Eight-thir-ty two. Time to go to work in ...fif-teen min-utes.'

So it was with an amazing jolt that Henderson first encountered the clock.

It was in a box that had been left out for collection for the history society. The old man Henderson barely saw in the old house he lived next to was dead. Finally. He was over a hundred and sixty-five, and did not believe in using much of the modern methods of life-extension, so he looked like a withered prune to Henderson. He was also very annoying and could be rude, as rumor was that he did not take his evening pills, as his sharp tongue certainly indicated.

His name had been John Rattamaker, the order from the old days, with his parents’ name last, and he had once told Henderson that Henderson looked like an ass for wearing the required hat.

Henderson knew what an ass looked like (he had Googled it) and found (also by Google) that it was a term meant to insult. But Henderson did not take this personally at all, as Henderson always took the evening pills, which were a funny play on words - you took them in the evening, before bed, and they were good at 'evening' out your emotions.

As Henderson left his home, he saw the box, waiting for the History Society pick-up. It had probably been collected by one of Rattamaker's many children, who had swarmed over the rickety stairs as soon as their father had died. They had left with many items, and Henderson was sure they were auctioned off to pay for the taxes owed on the property, which it was rumored, Rattamaker had not paid in decades.

Due to the fact that older people had started not dying and many had no way to earn more money, a law passed in the early days of the century mandated that old people could not be removed from domiciles they occupied for any reason except if they had killed someone (all other crimes were excused for the elderly) or if they were dead - , allowing the old to remain in places until they literally faded away. But once they did, the families descended like vultures, and the result looked like bones picked clean on videos he had watched on his viewer.

So the left behind remains were interesting - and in spite of the need to be on time for his assigned job as a watcher of the news feeds for impending troubles, he stopped to peruse the pile of junk by the curb.

Most of the items held no interest, and if he hadn't dug his hand deep into the container, underneath the old VCR tapes and postcards and other useless trash, he would never have found the clock.

When his hand touched it, it was a strange shape. Round, yet with edges. Most items in Henderson's time were produced by 3D machines - and they had a different feel. This was.......old.

He pulled it out and perused the face of the clock, even though he did not know it was called a face at that moment. but when he learned, he knew that is exactly what he thought when he saw it - a face.

The numbers looked at him, and the hands, did they move? He shook the clock and....he saw a faint motion, looked around quickly and shoved the clock into his pocket. It was his, he thought, as he rationalized that no one from the history society could possibly want an old plastic and slightly bent item like this!

Knowing the cameras would be recording this, he made sure bent over carefully to shield his actions as he concealed the clock. Then he made a big issue of sneezing loudly, which would require him to return to his home, take a wellness pill, and sanitize himself before heading to work. This enabled him to go into his home and put the clock in what he considered a safe place, under his bed. Nobody would look there.

And so it began.

Henderson could barely wait to get home that evening. He was a bit giddy at work, and tried hard to disguise this with a few sneezes, just in case. He left that afternoon, telling the others he was going to take an extra pill that night, just in case. as he had sneezed too much, and did not not want get a cold, which was something highly feared, as even though all illnesses had been completely eradicated back in the 2070s, for some reason, no one ever had been able to stop the mutation of the cold virus, and it still plagued humanity, despite trillions of dollars of medical research yearly, and the protective industry which had arisen to combat the cold.

Deep inside, Henderson wondered sometimes if the cold was allowed to continue due to the huge industry it supported, but the medications he took daily quickly stopped the thought from developing into anything resembling a troubling idea.

But the clock was to begin a series of troubling ideas - only Henderson did not identify

this at the time. Had he, the psychotropic medicines would probably have brought

an end to the entire sequence quickly. What happened, as we now know, was the

start of something only history books can properly explain, as no one could have

predicted that a simple man would cause the end of society as it was known at

the time.

And all because of a simple, plastic, made in China, originally $4.99 Walmart analog

clock........Tick tock.

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Janet S. Tiger 858-736-6315 CaregiversAnon.org

JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com

www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com

Member Dramatists Guild since 1983

Playwright-in-Residence

Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

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