Just Out Of Spite
Just Out Of Spite.
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 for the most part it’s just lengthy, inane, occasionally smart, perhaps a bit repetitious and it is always sure to beat 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 amazing 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 my artistic flair during the most exciting parts of movies, while writing e-mails about the best cat litter, or during sex. I have also been told by my loved ones that this gift 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.
100 Plays. 50 Playwrights. 1 Minute. The Chicago One-Minute Play Festival with Victory Gardens Theater will be presented on May 15th and 16th, 2011. Tickets are available here.