Our guest

OUR GUEST

A one act stage play about a radio talk show, the relationship between the host and his female sidekick and an elderly guest that makes everyone on the set question what they’re doing in their lives.

Š2001 Robert Crimmins 5012 Killens Pond Road Felton, Delaware 19943 USA 302-632-4972 rc@robcrimmins.com

CAST (in order of appearance): SID HARMON.................................radio talk show producer GINA................................................radio station receptionist/secretary HARRY KEYES...............................elderly guest HAROLD PIERCE............................radio talk show host DARLICE JETT................................co-host JIM (voice of)....................................telephone caller CHRISTY (voice of)..........................telephone caller LEWIS (voice of)...............................telephone caller MRS. PIERCE (voice of)...................(Harold's mother) telephone caller CRYPTO (voice of)...........................telephone caller Character descriptions: SID HARMON is the producer of the Harold Pierce Show, a radio talk show with a young adult audience. Sid is thirty years old, a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant with long hair and bald on top. He is ambitious and reasonably successful and competent but slightly insecure. "A lot can go wrong in radio."

GINA, the radio station receptionist, is extremely well dressed and groomed. She is young and sexy, open and warm.

HARRY KEYES is "Our Guest". He is a 92 year old gentleman with a sharp and insightful mind. At times he is emotional, moved by his memories or angered by disrespectful youngsters but he is patient and wise.

HAROLD PIERCE is the host of a very popular radio talk show. He is thirty nine years old, from Oyster Bay, Long Island, and the product of devoted and slightly eccentric, lower, middle class parents. He made his way to the top of the radio industry through determination and guile.

DARLICE JETT is Harold's co-host. She is twenty nine years old, and very pretty when she wants to be and when she smiles. She has been with the show for six years and has matured with the show and under the rough and sometimes abusive care of Harold.

CHRISTY appears as a telephone voice. She is very young (late teens or early twenties) hooker, with a thick Brooklyn accent.

JIM is a rude, New York youth who is also a telephone caller to the show.

LEWIS is another caller. He is a depressed man of indeterminate age.

MRS. PIERCE, Harold's mother, calls in also. She is sixty eight years old and widowed, a nice old lady with a lifestyle typical of the retired working class of Long Island. She loves her son despite his ridicule and jokes at her expense.

CRYPTO is a gang member/graffiti artist of limited intelligence who calls into the show and has a hard time expressing himself.

2

Synopsis: Harold Pierce, a radio talk show host, has invited Harry Keyes to be his guest on the show. The producer, Sid Harmon, normally arranges for show business personalities, politicians, and controversial sports figures to be abused by the abrasive host and Darlice, his supportive side kick. Mr. Keyes is a ninety two year old, "real person" that Harold met in Central Park the day before. Something about him attracted and intrigued Harold so he approached the old gent and asked him to be his guest on the show. When Mr. Keyes arrives the next day for the show the producer is less than cordial. He feels that Harold has not only overstepped his bounds by arranging for the guest but he is taking a chance on hurting the show and the ratings. An interview with a likable old man from Central Park is fundamentally different from their normal format and Sid is very concerned about the consequences. Harold has no respect for Sid or his concerns and the show goes on with Mr. Keyes. The consequences are unusual but they are not as the producer or the host imagined.

History of the play: "Our Guest" was written in the summer of 1994. It has not been produced and has only been reviewed by one theater group: The Playhouse Players of Dover Delaware. They were considering entering a one act play competition and the play was written for that purpose.

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THE PLAY The curtain opens on a radio studio. There is a door on the back wall facing the audience. In the center of the stage is the disc jockey's console and three chairs. One, for the show's host, is a high back, sumptuous, brown leather, the kind that might be found in a very successful and ostentatious business executive's office. Another is plain, black, simulated leather with casters. The third is a folding chair. The wall on stage left is glass and behind it is the producers booth which is equipped with a table, console, microphone, a large wall clock with a second hand and telephone. SID HARMON, the producer, is seated at the table going through notes on a clipboard.

He is fidgeting and nervous, a bit angry, and as he leafs through the papers he repeatedly looks at the wall clock which reads five minutes before two. He stops handling the papers, throws his pencil in disgust on the table top and turns toward the clock. He folds his arms across his chest, leans back in his chair, and stares at the clock.

The door on the back wall opens and two people enter. One is a young woman; the receptionist. The other is a very old man. The man comes in first and starts to walk to his left. He is interested in the studio and the equipment.

The receptionist has started toward the producer who has sprung to his feet at their entrance. When she notices that the old gentleman has gone the wrong way she turns and goes to him. She gently takes his arm to turn him toward the producer and he responds by laying his hand on hers and smiling. He is glad for her touch and his old, bent hand on hers warms her heart. She smiles and speaks.

RECEPTIONIST: Mr. Keyes, it's been a pleasure meeting you. I hope...

The producer is out of his booth and is hurrying to them.

SID [to the receptionist]: Where the hell is Harold! We go on in five minutes! Have you seen Darlice? Five minutes and no one's here but the guest! Is this guy the guest?

MR. KEYES extends his right hand and starts to introduce himself. SID interrupts as he takes his hand and shakes it, a bit too vigorously.

SID: Yeah, you must be him. OK take a seat, make yourself comfortable. You want some coffee?

MR. KEYES' reply is cut off again.

SID: Gina, get him some coffee. I'm gonna see if Harold is here.

As he turns to leave, MR. KEYES sits down in the brown leather chair. SID sees this, rolls his eyes and sighs.

SID: Hey, hey. You can't sit there. That's the host's chair.

MR. KEYES: Excuse me.

He gets up and sits in the black chair but this too is no good for SID. SID: No, no, the other one,! You gotta sit in the other one. Darlice sits there.

MR. KEYES get up again and frowns at the producer. SID waits for a moment to be sure that MR. KEYES has moved to the correct seat. He then makes a sarcastic gesture and exits. MR. KEYES settles into the folding chair and as he does the left arm slips and the left side of the back of the chair, which is normally supported by the arm rotates away from the armrest. He tries to lock the armrest back into position and 4

when he thinks it is right he leans back to test it but once again the arm and back slip and he realizes that the chair is broken so he sits up straight.

MR. KEYES [To himself]: Make myself comfortable . . . humph.

The door flies open. HAROLD PIERCE, the host, is in the lead. DARLICE JETT, his co-host, is next. SID is third. HAROLD stops just inside and lets DARLICE go past so he can respond to SID'S ranting.

HAROLD is in jeans that are tucked into knee high leather boots with platform heels and a long sleeve white cotton shirt that is open to the waist. His belt has a huge buckle. The cigarette in his left hand drops ashes as he gestures. DARLICE is wearing sandles and a long, black skirt and a full jacket that hides an appealing figure. She walks to MR. KEYES, who stands to greet her. She smiles warmly and he is gracious. They shake hands and introduce themselves but their conversation cannot be heard over SID'S tirade.

SID: Man, I wish you were in my shoes. You ought to sweat it out day after day, wondering if the big star is gonna show up.

HAROLD: You're paid to worry about me. This is my show.

SID: Your show? Ha! HAROLD: I'll take care of business. Do you think I want my listeners to hear your panicked, squeaky voice explain that I'm caught in traffic. I'm here. Have I ever missed a show?

SID: Yeah! Like you forgot. You missed two of 'em!

HAROLD: Oh, come on. I mean since the Dark Ages.

SID: I played records and humiliated myself with phone calls from assholes who wanted to talk to you and spent the next week pleading with sponsors, and station managers not to shitcan us. I hate you.

HAROLD [laughing]: I know. [laughs] you played records on a talk show.... You'd hate me anyway.

SID: You make it real easy!

HAROLD: You're pissed that it isn't your show. Puttin' you on the spot a couple times makes you feel needed.

Now, shut up and get in your box.

SID stiffens for a moment, clenches his fists, bears his teeth and mutters obscenities, then walks into the booth.

He sits at his console but gets right back up and goes to the door.

SID: Harold. Would you and Darlice join me in here for a minute.

HAROLD: No. I need to get some things ironed out with Darlice.

SID is enraged. DARLICE takes HAROLD'S arm and pulling him toward the booth.

DARLICE: Come on. We don't want to start the show like this.

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HAROLD agrees and goes with her. They go through the door and SID closes it behind him. HAROLD sits on the table and puts his feet on SID'S chair, lights a cigarette and throws the match on the floor.

HAROLD: What?

SID: So what's the plan with our guest?

HAROLD: . . . just like any other show. We ask questions, he answers. People call and ask questions and we answer them.

SID: Just like any other show? You punish the guest on other shows. I get politicians with criminal records and actors with bad movies so you can pick at their sores. Are you gonna treat the old guy that way?

HAROLD turns and watches MR. KEYES who is gazing at the ceiling. He is calm and deep in thought.

HAROLD turns back to face SID and DARLICE who are wondering about the answer. They all consider the question and their dilemma. Finally HAROLD answers.

HAROLD: OK. It's a change, so what?

DARLICE: We can be nice.

SID: Nice? I know you can but nice hasn't kept us on the air for six years and put us on sixty stations. We aren't in every major market every day because we're nice.

He stops momentarily and looks through the glass at their placid guest.

This is a big risk.

DARLICE: Its just one show and it won't hurt the ratings to show a little kindness.

SID: How the hell do you know that?

HAROLD: How the hell do you know that it will, and so what if we drop a few points. I'm sick of worrying about ratings.

SID: What are you, some kind of artist? This is business. It's entertainment for the shallow, diversion for the commuter. Man, we're gone with a touch of a finger and for the average shmuck with his daydreams and red lights we're gone for the whole ride. If it happens for one of 'em it happens for a thousand.

HAROLD: My listeners are more loyal than that.

Now it is Sid's turn to laugh.

SID: Really? If you got run over by a bus all they'd do is change the channel.

HAROLD pushes the chair toward SID who stops it just before it smashes into his knees. SID snaps up. He'd like to throw the chair back. HAROLD doesn't flinch. He only glares at SID then slowly gets off the table and starts out.

HAROLD: C'mon Darl.

DARLICE touches SID before she and HAROLD return to the studio. MR. KEYES greets them with a 6

smile but he doesn't stand. SID looks at the clock then sits at his console, puts on his headset and speaks into his microphone. His tone is harsh. The mike is connected to a speaker on the wall above the booth window and his words are amplified for the players and the audience. He has turned up the volume.

SID: Two minutes!

DARLICE and MR. KEYS jump but HAROLD is un-fazed and responds with a backhanded wave. He extends his hand to MR. KEYES who takes it.

HAROLD: Mr. Keyes, thanks for comin'. There's nothin' to be nervous about. Just be yourself. Darl and I just act natural and it works fine. OK. Are you nervous?

MR. KEYES [coolly]: No. HAROLD: Good. Darlice. Have you got questions for Mr. Keyes?

DARLICE: What do you mean? Written down?

HAROLD: Yeah. Let me see. What have you got?

DARLICE: Harold this was your idea. I didn't write down any questions.

HAROLD: Darl. Mr. Keyes isn't an actor or writer. I figured you'd have prepared somehow. [to MR. KEYES] Were you ever in politics?

MR KEYES: No. HAROLD: We need some questions for this guy Darl!

DARLICE: Like I said. This was your idea.

SID [over the speaker]: SIXTY SECONDS! SID is showing signs that he has accepted their fate and he is pleased that HAROLD may have a hard time.

HAROLD [to MR. KEYES]: Were you ever in show business?

MR. KEYES: No. HAROLD: Were you ever in jail?

MR. KEYES: No, I was never in jail. Mr. Pierce, you aren't nervous are you?

DARLICE has lowered her head and shut her eyes. HAROLD does seem a bit worried. SID is now grinning broadly. He slowly leans forward to speak into the microphone. This time his tone is amused and he says the words slowly.

SID: Thiiiirty seconds.

HAROLD sneers.

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DARLICE: Mr. Keyes. How long have you and Harold known each other?

MR. KEYES: We met in Central Park yesterday morning.

DARLICE: Yesterday!? Was Harold drunk?

MR. KEYES: Well, yes. It seemed odd for eight o'clock in the morning.

DARLICE: Not for him.

SID [on the speaker]: On the air in five . . .four . . . three . . .

As HAROLD begins to speak, he and DARLICE are looking at each other and she is shaking her head. He shrugs and smiles. She responds with a chuckle and resignation.

HAROLD [into his mike]: Hey everybody. I'm here with Darlice and Sid. Sid's in a great mood this afternoon.

SID is appearing very satisfied.

HAROLD: And our show today is a little different. We'll take a few calls as usual and have some fun with our guest but today we don't have some famous schmuck promoting his movie or selling CDs. It's not the same old canned show that our hack producer lays out everyday. Today we have a real person. And I don't know this man.

You, Darlice and I are gonna get to know this guy together. It's experimental radio. Our guest is . . . how about this. I don't even know his name. Mr. Keyes, what is your first name?

MR. KEYES: Harold.

HAROLD: Your kiddin', that's great. Do they call you Harold or Harry. I hope it's Harry. We might get confused.

MR. KEYES: You can call me Harry. My mother always called me Harold, most others call me Harry.

HAROLD: My mother's the only person that calls me Harry. That's interesting.

DARLICE: Not to the rest of us.

HAROLD: Darl, baby I'm here for me, not the rest of ya. Harry, how old are you.

MR. KEYES: I'm ninety two.

DARLICE: Ninety two!? You look great. I hope I'm doing as well at ninety two.

HAROLD: Not a chance! The way you smoke. And your diet. When was the last time you didn't have French fries at lunch?

DARLICE: I thought this show was supposed to be an experiment. Insulting me isn't experimental. You mastered that years ago.

HAROLD: That's right. Your thighs, your depressing love life and your mother's varied and puzzling mental conditions are old ground. We're blazing new trails here today and I'm up for it.

8

HAROLD is much more upbeat and energetic now that he is on the air.

HAROLD: Mr. Keyes, I asked you here today because New York and the rest of America needs to hear from people who have something important to say and what's really important to them isn't how Tony Bennett got his start or how Kieth Richards kicked heroin or who got stabbed in the back so Mayor what's his name could get elected. They don't give a crap about the most recent gang murder or who I met at the bar last night. I'm tired of talking about that. They want to know what's gonna happen to them or what did happen to someone like them.

Someone like you. You're an old guy. You made it through ninety years and I say that most ninety year old people are interesting. You probably know a few tricks that could save someone a lot of trouble, if they'd listen. If I wanted your advice, what would you say?

HAROLD waits for MR. KEYES to speak. There is ten seconds of dead air. HAROLD continues to wait, believing that his guest is collecting his thoughts, but MR. KEYES is silent. SID is getting jumpy. Finally, MR. KEYES responds.

MR. KEYES: Well, Mr. Pierce...

HAROLD: Call me Harold.

MR. KEYES: I don't know any tricks.

HAROLD [sharply]: Aw, c'mon Harry. Don't be a tough guy.

MR. KEYES: Harold, have you read Thoreau?

HAROLD: Yea, I guess.

MR. KEYES: In Walden, his memoir of a simplified existence, his mind settled on a range of subjects. While living more modestly than many of his poorest neighbors and in some ways better than the wealthiest he was free in spirit and mind. He deliberately shed responsibility and all ambitions beyond those needed to provide for a comfortable survival. The result was liberation and conclusions that established him as an intellectual of the highest order. I like what he wrote about age and wisdom. He wrote: “It is never too late to lose our prejudices.

No way of thinking or doing, however ancient, can be trusted without proof.” . . . “Age is no better, hardly so well, qualified for an instructor as youth, for it has not profited so much as it has lost. One may almost doubt if the wisest man has learned anything of absolute value by living. Practically, the old have no very important advice to give the young, their own experience has been so partial, and their own lives have been such miserable failures, for private reasons, as they must believe; and it may be that they have some faith left which belies that experience, and they are only less young than they were.” He claimed to have never heard a single syllable of valuable or even earnest advise from his seniors. He said, “They have told me nothing, and probably cannot tell me anything, to the purpose. Here is life, an experiment to a great extent untried by me; but it does not avail me that they have tried it. If I have any experience which I think valuable, I am sure to reflect that this my Mentors said nothing about.”

HAROLD: Hmm. Yea, he was a heavy thinker alright. But as I recall he died pretty young and didn’t sit for any interviews. I can tell you are, as he said, a “qualified instructor” so I’m gonna see what we can get. Are you married? Do you think marriage makes you live longer?

MR. KEYES: I was married for fifty four years. My wife died six years ago.

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HAROLD: Dead huh, after fifty four years. That's sure not funny.

MR. KEYES finds Harold's remark tasteless and he shifts a bit in his chair. By now he is a bit fatigued by sitting without back support in the broken chair. DARLICE notices his discomfort and rises to give him her chair. This distracts MR. KEYES from his conversation with HAROLD and there is general shuffling as DARLICE rolls her chair to MR. KEYES and he gratefully accepts it. For the radio audience, the activity after Harold's stupid comment is incomprehensible. Finally, HAROLD collects himself and speaks.

HAROLD: Stand by folks. We're rearranging the furniture.

MR. KEYES sits in Darlice's chair and she takes his. He nods thanks. SID is agitated.

HAROLD [exasperated]: OK. Are we set to...

DARLICE has lifted the chair over the table and as she does it strikes her microphone which falls to the floor.

SID rips off his headphones as the microphone crashes to the floor. DARLICE puts the chair down, where hers was, and retrieves the spilled microphone. SID rubs his ears then puts his headphones back on.

DARLICE sits down and leans forward to adjust her mike.

HAROLD: Well that was fun. Can we get on with the show or are there any...

After finally finishing her adjustments, DARLICE sighs and sits back but the chair back gives way and she falls to the floor. This time HAROLD goes on.

HAROLD [quickly and loudly]: Harry! How did you meet your wife!?

MR. KEYES is watching DARLICE and he starts to get up to help her but she motions for him to stay seated and go on with the interview. She is all right.

MR. KEYES: Yes, yes uh, we met in 1930 here in New York. I was driving a cab and she was a fare. We started to talk and I asked her out to dinner.

HAROLD: My marriages sucked. Were you happily married?

MR. KEYES: It was very good for me. I think it is the best way for people to live. It's natural, healthy. But it is important to be with the right person. I think I could have lived with my Rose forever.

HAROLD: Rose . . . I love that name.

MR. KEYES: I haven't spoken it in many months. I think of her daily, even hourly but I rarely speak of her. I call her name at night. Thank you for asking me about her.

MR. KEYES is getting choked up. SID sees this and he quickly stands, places his hands on the table and leans forward. He throws and holds a switch.

SID [on the studio speaker]: Mr. Keyes, please don't cry!

HAROLD: Uh, yeah your welcome, let's change the subject. What kind of work did you do?

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MR. KEYES: No. Let's not change the subject. Rose and our children were my universe. There are no other subjects.

HAROLD softens.

HAROLD: OK. If you want to. Tell us.

MR. KEYES: I took my work seriously and the wars and other events seemed important. I had hobbies and dreams. My life has been rich, but not crowded. Somebody once said that not even God can add to a vessel that is already full. I left some room for new things and there was always space for Rose and our children. Even when I didn't know it, they were the most important thing.

DARLICE: When didn't you know it?

MR. KEYES: When I was young and self centered. That's the stage in life when you put your head down and live for the day or the next milestone. The reasons don't come to mind.

HAROLD: Yeah, it doesn't pay to get hung up on reasons.

DARLICE: We are getting into new ground. What do you mean?

HAROLD: It's distracting. When we're grillin' some guy on a normal show I just want to grill him. I want to find out what makes him tick. If I worry about why I'm rakin' him over the coals he'll get away. I want to make him squirm.

MR. KEYES: I hope your not going to try to make me squirm.

HAROLD: I don't think I could Mr. Keyes.

DARLICE: Be careful Harold. You don't want to come off sounding like a nice guy. Think of your reputation.

HAROLD: I never worry about my reputation.

MR. KEYES: Harold, I found you to be a most endearing young man in the park yesterday. It would be a shame if your audience believed your radio personality and the real man were one in the same.

SID stands and turns off the on air microphones again.

SID (on the wall speaker): You better check that Harold.

SID releases the switch and sits.

HAROLD [looking at SID]: I am a nice guy. Endearing even. Darlice, we have our tiffs, but like Mr. Keyes just said, radio is show business and we're players. You know that and you don't take my abuse seriously. Do you?

DARLICE: Sure I do. What are you saying? Your tirades, insults and insights are part of an act?

Again, SID throws the switch that turns off the broadcast microphones and speaks into his studio mike.

11

SID [commanding]: Darlice! Cut it out!

He releases the switch but remains forward in his chair.

HAROLD [to DARLICE]: Man, what is your problem today? Is this what I get for bringin' a real person on the show? You know what it is? It's the difference between him and everyone else that comes in this studio. You and me included. We got a whole new thing goin' on today and I can handle it. I love it. Mr. Keyes, why did you agree to come on the show?

SID gestures with the phone to HAROLD. HAROLD waves him off and shakes his head no.

MR. KEYES: I'm retired now. Your proposal to come on your show and answer your questions was interesting.

It's what I do now.

HAROLD: What do you mean? What do you do?

MR. KEYES: I listen. Sometimes I help people with their problems.

HAROLD: Are you a consultant of some kind?

MR. KEYES [laughing]: Yes, truly. I am a consultant. I advise young people. People like you and Darlice and Sid, there in the other room. There are so many of you looking for answers.

A few moments of silence pass as SID, DARLICE and HAROLD exchange questioning glances. SID slowly hangs up the telephone receiver. For the first time he is attentive to their guest.

MR. KEYES: I started going to the park when I retired, just to watch the birds and be in the sun. From the first day people have stopped to talk. Certain people. They're always alone, and they're always young. And, naturally, they're always wandering, searching, just like you were yesterday. I'm not sure why they stop. Our eyes meet and they come to me. Perhaps they sense my contentment and they wonder how I can be contented and alone. Is that why you stopped Harold? Were you curious about how I live with solitude?

HAROLD: Yes! I watched you for a few minutes before I came over. You seem to notice everything around you.

Every now and then you would laugh and once or twice you looked as though you might cry. I couldn't resist asking you what you were thinking.

MR. KEYES: That's the first thing you said to me. You asked me what I was thinking. Forgive me for not answering you then. My clients need to share their thoughts before I share mine.

DARLICE: Clients! Now I get it. You're a retired shrink. Harold, we're being analyzed. Yeah, he's a pro.

HAROLD: Harry, are you shrink?

MR. KEYES: No. I was an elevator operator.

HAROLD [laughing]: Darl, you almost guessed it. An elevator operator? That's an extinct trade.

MR. KEYES: Yes. One of many.

HAROLD: How about that. What's the best part about running an elevator?

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DARLICE: Wait a minute! Who cares about elevators. Who are your clients? That's an interesting choice of words. What do you do for these people?

HAROLD: Who cares about elevators? Mr. Keyes spent a career in elevators. You ride 'em everyday. What if you had to use the stairs? I think you're being rude to our guest.

DARLICE is a little frustrated. SID is pacing in his booth.

MR. KEYES: Few people appreciate elevators. They are vital but automatic elevators are automatic. You're not supposed to notice them. It's not like the old days.

HAROLD: That's the truth. I love the old kind where the guy has to open the gate and stop it, then move it a little up or down so you don't trip when...

DARLICE: Mr. Keyes, please tell me, who are your clients and what do you do for them?

MR. KEYES: I shouldn't use that term I suppose, but it fits. Young people ask for my advice. They want help. If I like them I help them. The truth is Thoreau’s experience doesn’t apply to everyone. The young people who question me usually become friends. Until then, I call them clients.

DARLICE: How many?

MR. KEYES: Over the years, I've been retired for twenty years, it's been hundreds. I enjoy their company. Their gratitude and friendship is payment. It's been very rewarding.

DARLICE: Wow, let me get it straight. On a regular basis, like daily, people, strangers, sit down with you on a park bench and ask for advise, and you give it to them, and they use it and you become friends.

MR. KEYES: It doesn't always work out like that. There are those that I choose not to advise. I do need to be careful.

HAROLD: Why you though? Hundreds of times? . . . there must be something special about you. There is an attraction.

MR. KEYES: It's probably a combination of traits and attitude. I'm open, I make eye contact with people that I judge to be searching . . . and I'm old. That makes me non threatening. As far as the number of people that come to me . . . a great many people are looking for answers. There's a surplus of those in the City.

HAROLD: Are you qualified to counsel these people?

MR. KEYES: Eminently.

HAROLD: Why? MR. KEYES: I'm sincere. I can be trusted. And, actually, I never shed light on their problems. I don't need qualifications because I really do very little. They tell me what their problem is and in the process they state the answer. It's rare that intelligent people don't know the solutions to their problems. They doubt themselves but they know. And the kind of person that would share his thoughts with an old stranger is also the kind that can look critically at themselves. Others are adrift because they are cruel or lazy and stupid. Those are the ones that I 13

avoid. I want to help but I won't sacrifice myself.

DARLICE: Yeah, there's no joy in martyrdom for the martyr.

HAROLD: So this pastime of yours is fulfilling and, from the sounds of it, very productive. But you don't get any money.

MR. KEYES: My monetary needs are few and my retirement meets them nicely. There are forms of payment far more valuable than money. It's very satisfying.

HAROLD: Who are these wayward losers that share your bench?

MR. KEYES [slightly put off]: None are losers. Asking for help can be an act of courage. You approached me just as the others did. Are you a loser Mr. Pierce . . . Harold?

DARLICE sees that HAROLD may be about to act in some manner or begin an attack that is inappropriate so she cuts him off.

DARLICE: Do we know any of these people?

HAROLD still wants to berate their guest. The loser comment has touched a nerve but DARLICE gestures that he should not. He recognizes that she is right and obeys her suggestion and allows Mr. Keyes to answer her question.

MR. KEYES: Yes indeed. Some are quite prominent. Several have been on your show.

SID'S interest is again peaked.

HAROLD: No kidding? Who? MR. KEYES: I can't say.

HAROLD: I guess not. It's like a doctor/patient confidence.

MR. KEYES: No. Just a confidence.

SID waves to HAROLD and after getting his attention he points to the clock.

HAROLD: For you I'd wager qualifications aren't necessary. We'll folks, we're gonna break for sixty seconds.

Don't go away.

SID switches on the commercial then quickly walks out of the booth to speak with the others.

DARLICE: Harold, what's the deal? This is a set up, right? Mr. Keyes is an actor or your Uncle Ned. Right? You didn't meet yesterday.

HAROLD: Yeah, we did. I'm not screwin' around. We met in Central Park, eight o'clock yesterday morning.

SID: You had something in mind when you asked him to come on and since you didn't know about his past life as an elevator operator or his park bench psychiatry practice there must have been some other theme. Even if 14

you were drunk your brain was still functioning. You better remember the flash of genius that got us into this because I don't like where this is headed. This isn't the Harold Pierce Show today. The switchboard is dark. We have no calls.

Smiles slowly form on DARLICE and HAROLD'S lips.

SID: You think that's good? This is a CALL . . . IN . . . SHOW . . . and no one is CALLING IN! We're off the format, out of control. I want to get it back.

HAROLD: Take it easy Sid. Control isn't all it's cracked up to be. I think we're doin' great. I'm havin' a good time.

How about you Darl?

DARLICE: If you swear this isn't a set up. If we're in together then I'm cool. It's nice having a guest out of the hot seat. (She looks down at her chair.)

HAROLD: We're together.

HAROLD'S tone has an uncharacteristic warmth which DARLICE and MR. KEYES both notice. SID is too agitated to have picked up on the subtle implication but when he sees MR. KEYES expression the realization hits him that HAROLD has exhibited a kindness toward his co-host that none of them has seen before. After a brief moments consideration, he quickly shakes his head and dismisses the impossibility and starts back to his production booth.

SID: All right. I hope we can pull it off.

Back at his console, he signals to HAROLD that they are on the air.

HAROLD: Were back with our guest, Mr. Harry Keyes, retired elevator operator and a member of the oldest living generation on Earth. Darlice, I'm gonna ask you something first. I know my answer to this question and I wonder if you're getting the same feeling. Why do I like this old gent?

DARLICE: His confidence. He's fatherly. I feel like he knows a lot about himself and the rest of us and wouldn't use what he knows to hurt or embarrass.

HAROLD: Well, I guess that's the second part of my answer. The first part is that he is so damn old.

DARLICE: I guess that's the second part of mine.

HAROLD: My mother is a generation behind Harry. This guy was born the year the Titanic sank. He's lived through a dozen Presidents. He's a contemporary of Thomas Edison and Buffalo Bill. He's got grown grandchildren. Ninety two years . . .

He looks up for a moment HAROLD (continuing): That's over thirty three thousand sunsets. There are so many possibilities that it's hard for me to know where to start. Help me out Mr. Keyes. Get us started on the insights that come with longevity.

Forgive me for saying so, but do you know what are the most important aspects of life now that you are so near the end?

MR. KEYES frowns.

15

MR. KEYES: I’m no nearer than anyone else, including you and I have no problem with my stage of life. There were a lot of ups and downs.

He doesn't continue. HAROLD and DARLICE politely wait for more but MR. KEYES is through with his answer.

HAROLD [puzzled]: Yea, sure, there must have been.

MR. KEYES: I was an elevator operator. [laughing] I never can resist that one, . . .used to drive Rose nuts. What's important changes many times. For me, now, the most important thing is an easy death and, by that’s more likely for me than you. You'll forgive me for getting to the point but my nearness to death is far more compelling for you than my contentment.

HAROLD: You think I'm callous.

MR. KEYES: Of course. All young people are, about the deaths of old strangers. But those of us near the end don't mind. We were young too.

DARLICE: I'm very afraid of death.

MR. KEYES: Don't be dear. It’s perfectly fine to assume you have a lot of time left and if you do live a long time, by the time the end comes, you won't be afraid.

HAROLD: I'm not afraid of dyin'. I hope I go out in a blaze of glory.

MR. KEYES: Better to die in your sleep. I've given some useful advise to Darlice. I'd like to offer you some Harold.

HAROLD: Yeah, please.

MR. KEYES: Don't wear that big belt buckle anymore. It must be very uncomfortable.

DARLICE laughs freely and HAROLD is transfixed by her. MR. KEYES notices Harold's reaction and he smiles.

DARLICE: Harold's big buckles are his symbol. You have to keep your big buckles.

HAROLD: Definitely. The buckle has to stay.

MR. KEYES: OK. Take it or leave it, the advice.

SID motions to HAROLD that there are calls.

HAROLD: We're gonna take a call. Sid, who's on the line?

SID: Jim from Queens.

HAROLD: Jim, what it is buddy?

JIM'S voice is deep and he sounds a bit dull.

16

JIM [from the studio speaker]: Harold! I loved it when the old guy slapped you over your crack about his dead wife.

HAROLD stabs the button on his phone to cut off JIM. HAROLD: Mr. Keyes, I'm sorry. For that and for my thoughtlessness before. You people! I'm gonna hang up on every single one of ya that's rude to this guest. You can say what you want about me and Darlice but Mr. Keyes is to be treated with respect or I'll cut you off! Who's next.

He punches another button to get the next call.

HAROLD: Hey, who's this?

A WOMAN'S VOICE: This is Christy.

CHRISTY is excited and quite young.

MR. KEYES: Christy, how nice of you to call. How are you?

HAROLD: This is a friend of yours?

DARLICE: A friend and ex-client?

CHRISTY: Yea! For sure. Harry and I are great pals. He used to talk me through things. I don't need him for that no more but I still stop by the park to see him. I didn't know you was gonna be on the radio! This is cool.

MR. KEYES: It came about suddenly.

CHRISTY: Harold, if you keep Harry on the show, he'll straighten out the whole City.

MR. KEYES: You know that's not possible.

DARLICE: What did this wise old bird do for you Christy.

CHRISTY: He listened . . . and he told me I should keep my pants on until after I got paid.

HAROLD and DARLICE are surprised. MR. KEYES grins.

HAROLD: Christy you bad girl.

CHRISTY [seductively]: Nuh-uh. Bye Harry.

MR. KEYES [smiling and slightly embarrassed]: Good-bye Christy.

DARLICE: Mr. Keyes! What's the deal with that one?

HAROLD: Now Darlice, they have a confidence, remember.

DARLICE: Never mind.

17

HAROLD: OK, I hope the next one is someone you don't know.

HAROLD hits the button.

HAROLD: Hey! You're on the air. Who are ya?

CALLER [a young man. His voice is low, his tone defeated]: Lewis.

HAROLD: Lewis, speak up a little would ya. What's up?

LEWIS [his tone unchanged]: I'm pissed off. My old lady took off with one of the guys I work with.

DARLICE: You sound more bummed out than mad.

LEWIS: Yeah.

HAROLD: What are you gonna do about it?

LEWIS: I'm thinkin' of offin' myself.

SID closes his eyes. He is sorry that he put this one through. HAROLD and DARLICE both turn in their chairs to look at SID. Both are incredulous that he let this happen. He returns their gaze with a questioning gesture then leans forward to turn off the on air mikes and turn on the studio speaker.

SID: I told you we're off the format. I'm playin' it by ear too.

HAROLD: Man, you need to call the Suicide Hotline or talk to your Dad or somebody. Were not ready to deal with . . .

MR. KEYES: Has it been very hard for you Lewis?

LEWIS [even lower than before]: Yeah. It's been real hard.

MR. KEYES: And you want to die?

There's a pause before he answers.

LEWIS: Yeah.

MR. KEYES: Sometimes it's the only way to stop the pain and losing your life mate is the worst thing that can happen.

HAROLD: Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa WHOA! Do not tell this guy to kill himself.

MR. KEYES: I've merely asked a question and stated a truth. An inquiry and an observation that could help poor Lewis save himself some trouble . . . the sort of thing you were hoping for. Lewis answered the question. But Lewis . . . take your time in choosing death. It's got to be the only way and the injury unbearable. Has she injured you beyond hope? Is she your life mate? Could be you'll heal and find the one who is.

18

HAROLD: Yeah Lou. Let the guy from the office take a crack at breakin' her in. Take the freeway for a while.

You'll get over it. I'll tell you what. If you can hold out thirty days, I'll let you come on the show.

DARLICE: Yeah. If you're good lookin' you can ask me out.

HAROLD and MR. KEYES give DARLICE thumbs up. SID even smiles and nods.

LEWIS [his tone a little lighter]: Nah, you wouldn't go out with me.

HAROLD [his eyes on Darlice]: Are you handsome Lewis?

LEWIS [lighter still, maybe a little embarrassed] Yeah. I can pick 'em up if I try.

HAROLD: Well shoot. Chasin' up Darl's pantaloons wouldn't be half bad.

He has never complimented her before and she is glad for it.

HAROLD: ...better than a shotgun shell sandwich.

Her smile turns down a bit but doesn't go away completely.

LEWIS [laughing weakly]: OK. Thanks. I'll wait. . . . call you back in a month.

HAROLD: All right! Talk to you then.

DARLICE: Come see us. Bye. HAROLD: Alright . . . another life spared. We'll be right back He looks to SID who throws the switches for the commercial tape and the on air microphones.

HAROLD [angrily to MR. KEYES}: Don't screw around! My ass is on the line . . .

MR. KEYES stands up.

MR. KEYES: Young man I am your guest. I am here at you invitation for your purposes and I will not be subjected to vulgar orders.

He walks calmly toward the door. DARLICE goes to him. As she makes her way to MR. KEYES she barks at HAROLD. DARLICE: Tell Mr. Keyes you're sorry! [to MR. KEYES] He may be rude but you accepted a responsibility with the invitation. Give him a chance to apologize.

HAROLD: Apologize? I have to apolo . . .

He stop's when the realization strikes him that an apology really is essential.

MR. KEYES [to DARLICE]: Yes dear. You're right.

19

He faces HAROLD. HAROLD [sincerely]: Mr. Keyes, I am sorry. Please come back. I'm not used to being nice to people. Even people that deserve it.

MR. KEYES: Everyone deserves it Harold. I accept your apology.

DARLICE: Great.

MR. KEYES and DARLICE return to their seats. SID, who was frozen with fear at the likelihood of a disaster drops into his chair, exhausted.

Before she sits down, DARLICE removes her jacket. She is wearing a tank top. The jacket covered soft, round shoulders and long, thin arms. The material of the top is thin so the outline of her breasts faintly shows through.

DARLICE: What! It didn't kill you to apologize!

HAROLD: I know. I was just looking at you. You look real nice.

Her expression and posture completely change in response to this unprecedented compliment.

SID has been watching. He starts to come out of the booth but notices the time and realizes that the commercial is about to end. He sits back down and holds his head.

HAROLD [back on the air]: Mr. Keyes. Can you remember the moment of discovery. The instant you realized that someone, a woman, was special.

DARLICE is still and fixed on HAROLD. Their eyes are locked on each other.

MR. KEYES: Yes. I had an affair with a secretary in my building, where I ran the elevator.

HAROLD and DARLICE now focus on their guest.

MR. KEYES: She was lovely. We were both young and she would stay on the elevator and ride with me. For the longest time we were just friends and then one day she touched me. In that instant I realized that she was more. I stopped between floors and we embraced.

DARLICE: Wow, that's racy. Did Mrs. Keyes ever find out?

MR. KEYES: The affair lasted twelve years. Eventually I told Rose about Esther. It was a very difficult time because I loved both of them and they both loved me but in our society, the way we're raised, that kind of love doesn't work. We were all being hurt.

HAROLD: You stayed with Rose though, didn't you?

MR. KEYES: Yes. I discovered her then. She forgave me and Esther. The three of us became friends. After all the tears I realized why I loved Rose so much.

DARLICE: Why did you tell her?

20

MR. KEYES: Secrets are shadows on the heart. One afternoon when our love was particularly strong I gave in.

HAROLD: And she forgave you.

MR. KEYES: Eventually.

DARLICE: How long did that take?

MR. KEYES: Hmm . . . I'd say . . . a week, and about ten thousand apologies. Confessions aren't cleansing without forgiveness. I told her "Rose, I'm not going to say I'm sorry for this again. You either forgive me or you don't but I can't apologize any more." I told her to either forgive me or call a lawyer. I meant it too.

HAROLD: What'd she say?

MR. KEYES: She laughed. Then she told me that she already forgave me but my pleading was fun. She knew it wouldn't last.

DARLICE: I don't know if I could forgive my husband for a twelve year affair. I'd probably shoot him in his sleep.

HAROLD: Yow! Would you wake him first?

DARLICE: Yeah. He should know it's coming. "Honey. Wake up. I'm going to shoot you now."

MR. KEYES: I doubt Rose contemplated murder.

HAROLD: Yeah Harry, it crossed her mind.

DARLICE: . . . must have been touch and go for a while. You could of died young.

MR. KEYES: Discovery is the greatest aspect of life.

DARLICE: For men. Is the same true for women?

HAROLD: You'd have to answer that.

DARLICE: Yeah. Sure it is. We're alike in that respect.

HAROLD: That's good. That's good to know.

DARLICE: You don't know enough about women Harold.

HAROLD: Really?

DARLICE: You appreciate certain things about us but you don't pay close enough attention to see the rest.

HAROLD: I love women! I married three of them.

DARLICE: Look who you picked. A dancer and a porn star, then a porn writer. They all cheated on you.

HAROLD: I cheated on them too.

21

DARLICE: If you were a good judge, if you could see what makes a woman a good woman you wouldn't have married them.

HAROLD: Yeah, maybe. What about you. You're still single, which is something I never understood. You can't find a guy with a ring for the same reason.

MR. KEYES: As I've said, discovery is exciting and answers are often simple. Sometimes they're right in front of us.

HAROLD and DARLICE both understand his meaning. Slowly, large grins form on both of their faces.

HAROLD: Harry, you are the best guest I ever had. Don't you think Darl.

DARLICE: Yeah. He's pretty great.

HAROLD: Even Sid is amazed.

SID has his head in his hands, his hair is shooting through his fingers. He lifts his head to look at the others and as he does his hands force his hair forward and up to make him look like a worried Albert Einstein.

HAROLD: How about a call buddy. Who's on the horn.

SID leans back in his chair. With utter resignation, he waves both arms at Harold indicating that Harold pick a call himself.

HAROLD: Just take one huh? OK. HAROLD punches one of the buttons on the phone console.

HAROLD: Hey. Your on the air. Who's this.

WOMAN'S VOICE: It's your mother. Sid doesn't tell you it's me anymore?

HAROLD: Sid's not himself today.

MRS. PIERCE: Sid dear, what's the matter? Did you catch the flu. Poor Mrs. Cravits has it and she's just dying.

The poor thing is awful. The phlegm she's bringing up could float a canoe, she is . . .

HAROLD: Mom! Please! Sid isn't sick but you're puttin' the rest of us off our lunch. What do you want? Today's pinochle isn't it. My mother cheats the seniors of Oyster Bay out of their fixed incomes every Friday. Monday it's the latest geology news with the Long Island Rock Hounds. Tuesdays are with the fire pups’ lady's auxiliary.

Wednesdays she catches up with the soaps and Thursdays she gets her feet sanded.

MRS. PIERCE: Oh your such a funny man, . . . at your mother's expense. You loved your father's mineral collection and I go to the podiatrist the second Thursday of the month. He treats my calluses.

HAROLD [laughing]: OK mom. Your right. I'm a rotten son. What did you want to tell us? Did you want to speak to our guest?

22

MRS. PIERCE: Yes, but now I don't. Telling everyone about my feet . . .

DARLICE: Aw, c'mon Mrs. Pierce. Don't let Harold get to you. Like he said, he's a rotten son.

MRS. PIERCE: Yes, he is. He always makes fun of me.

HAROLD: OK Mom. Jeez. You're a great Mom and you have beautiful feet.

MRS. PIERCE: Your father loved my feet.

HAROLD: I love your feet! They're the greatest. You have the feet of a goddess. Venus would give her arms and her legs for your feet. She would graft your feet to her hips. With your feet on her hips that clam shell she rides on could stop going to therapy. Now what do you want?

MRS. PIERCE: Are you coming for dinner tomorrow night.

HAROLD: Yes..

MRS. PIERCE: . . .because you say your coming and half the time you don't show up . . .

HAROLD: I'm comin' Mom. You're making tongue right? I love your tongue fritters.

MRS. PIERCE: No. I don't make tongue. You see. You see how you are . . . bring Darlice. You two sound like you’re starting to get along.

DARLICE is waving no.

HAROLD: Sure. Tongue is her favorite too.

MRS. PIERCE: I don't fix tongue!

HAROLD: Well then Darlice isn't coming. She was really hankerin' for a tongue burger.

MRS. PIERCE: I'll have to find a recipe. Tongue fritters? I suppose I could . . .

DARLICE: NO! I'll come but forget the tongue. OK? MRS. PIERCE: If you really want it, I'm sure I could find . . . it wouldn't be trouble . . . Mrs. Goldman might know how to fix tongue. She's very . . .

HAROLD: Mom! Make spaghetti. We'll be there. Goodbye.

MRS. PIERCE: Oh good. The thought of an animals tongue in my mouth is icky. I'll make garlic bread and we'll have cheesecake. Goodbye.

MRS. PIERCE hangs up.

HAROLD: What a gal, huh?

DARLICE: She's a gal alright, that mom of yours, and poor Mrs. Cravits and her phlegm. My, my . . .

23

HAROLD: You guy's heard it. Darlice and I are going on a date. Monday's show should be a doozy.

DARLICE: Oh yeah. Why is that?

HAROLD: Well this is like when Genie married the Major or the last episode of MASH. We've been fightin' on the air for six years and now we're goin' out on a date and you'll probably be crazy about me and everyone will want to hear about it and . . . you know . . . uh . . . like that.

Like the cat that swallowed the canary, he waits for her response.

DARLICE: You aren't Major Nelson . . . although you might be a fun date.

SID gets out of his chair and lays on the floor, his console hiding him from the audience. MR. KEYES stands and looks in the booth at SID, then returns to his chair. He gestures to DARLICE for an explanation but she just shrugs and indicates that there is nothing to worry about.

HAROLD: I'm more fun than water skiing.

MR. KEYES: You two will have a marvelous evening. Look at all you have in common, and all your differences.

Both think for a moment then nod. HAROLD smiles at MR. KEYES. He looks back to DARLICE and his smile broadens, then pushes a button on the phone board.

HAROLD [almost laughing]: Hello, your on the air with Harold and Darlice. What's new?

A YOUNG MAN'S VOICE [vigorously chewing gum]: Harold man. This is Crypto.

DARLICE [sarcastically]: Cool name. Crypto. Where'd you get it.

CRYPTO: You know me.

HAROLD: Who knows you?

CRYPTO: All a ya.

MR. KEYES: We know his name.

HAROLD: We do?

MR. KEYES: Yes. It's on every subway car in the system.

DARLICE: Oh. Crypto. Yeah. It's on every car.

HAROLD: Sure. Everyone in the city knows your mark. Do you ever sleep? You gotta be workin' your tail off to lay down that much paint.

CRYPTO: Sure I sleep. I got a job too. Paint cost money and I don't steal for it.

MR. KEYES: Aren't you the model citizen.

24

CRYPTO: I ain't a damn citizen.

HAROLD: Why'd you call? What's on your mind?

CRYPTO: That dude you had on yesterday . . . he was a punk.

HAROLD: And you're a vandal.

CRYPTO: I ain't a vandal. I'm a artist.

HAROLD [to MR. KEYES]: Does this guy fall in the cruel/lazy/stupid category?

MR. KEYES [coldly]: Perhaps just cruel and stupid.

CRYPTO: Hey! What's with you?

MR. KEYES starts to answer but Harold interrupts.

HAROLD: Yeah you're stupid. You're not a citizen or a vandal but you live in the city and you smear your silly mark on every surface that you can sneak up on. I'm not gonna use up valuable time on you. Goodbye.

MR. KEYES [quickly, before HAROLD hits the button]: Wait a moment. Crypto, what compels you to paint your moniker on the trains.

CRYPTO: All I lay is C R Y P T O, in bold letters. I don't paint no monocles . . . or barnacles . . . or whatever it was you said.

MR. KEYES: Your name lad. Why do you paint your name so often.

CRYPTO: I am expressin' myself.

MR. KEYES: To whom?

CRYPTO: To all of ya'll. To anyone.

MR. KEYES: What are you expressing to me? What do you want me to know about you?

CRYPTO: I don't give a damn what you know about me.

MR. KEYES: Expressive acts are messages and your's is empty. All you tell us is your name.

DARLICE: Your wasting time and paint, and maybe even talent if you think anybody wants to read your name a thousand times.

CRYPTO: You people don't get it. You don't get it at all.

HAROLD: Yeah, OK. Go huff some solvents. Goodbye "Crypto".

HAROLD pushes the button to hang up.

25

MR. KEYES: You're callers aren't exactly the cream of society.

DARLICE: No, but we love 'em.

HAROLD [sarcastically]: Yeah, we love 'em alright. They keep us yappin'.

SID rises from the floor and gestures toward the clock.

HAROLD: But we're done for today. Thanks for being here Mr. Keyes. You were a great guest.

MR. KEYES: Thank you for having me. It was very interesting.

HAROLD: You're welcome. Maybe you can come back again sometime.

MR. KEYES starts to answer but DARLICE interrupts.

DARLICE: Don't forget to tune us in on Monday to find out about our date and Mom's spaghetti. Maybe she'll give me her cheesecake recipe. Make sure you have a pencil and paper ready.

SID [on the studio speaker}: We're off the air.

SID comes out of the booth and goes straight for MR. KEYES He reaches to shake his hand and pulls him up out of the chair and leads him to the door.

SID: Harry you were great. Thank you for being on the show.

HAROLD gets out of his chair to stop MR. KEYES from leaving but Darlice steps in front of him.

DARLICE: Harold, about tomorrow . . .

HAROLD: Yeah, Darl, wait a second . . .

He puts his hands on her shoulders so that he can move around her. SID is practically pushing MR. KEYES out the door. HAROLD is about to speak. He wants to stop him from leaving but, to prevent him from doing so, DARLICE reaches up, takes his face in her hands and kisses him. He lets her and while they kiss, SID completes the eviction and closes the door. He stands with his hand on the knob until HAROLD and DARLICE are through just to be sure that KEYES doesn't come back in.

HAROLD is deeply affected by the kiss. He looks at her as if seeing her for the first time.

HAROLD: Darlice . . . I . . .

Then he realizes that he was distracted from keeping their guest. He starts toward the door but again, she stops him.

DARLICE: Harold, let him go.

HAROLD: I want to talk to him. I want to ask him to come back on the show. His life . . .

26

DARLICE: He can't come back on. Sid's right. It's off the format.

HAROLD: Do you care?

DARLICE: It's what we do. Mr. Keyes, real people, they'll change us. The show works. Why change something that already works? I've got to go. I'm supposed to meet my sister at her apartment. Where do you want to meet tomorrow. Can you pick me up at my place?

HAROLD is a little unsteady.

HAROLD: Sure, about six.

DARLICE walks to the door. SID opens it for her and smiles at HAROLD then walks out behind her. For a moment HAROLD is motionless. Putting his hands on his hips he looks up, sighs heavily and shakes his head. Then he looks at his belt buckle. After a few seconds he takes the belt off looks at the heavy buckle, then throws the belt in the trash can and leaves the studio.

27