Decrepitude Blues
Comedy/drama. 1m, 1-6f (depending on doubling).
Teaser
Murphy's Law: "If anything can go wrong it will."
O'Toole's Refinement: "Muphy was an optimist."
Tomorrow is Warren Winter’s birthday. The big Seven O. But he’s not happy about it. In fact, he’s not happy about much of anything. When he left his marriage his wife told him he’d end up old, bitter and alone. And now, as he says: “Old. Check. Bitter. Check. Alone. You betcha.”
He’s just lost his job – a newspaper column he’s had for 30 years – being told he’s old-fashioned and irrelevant with nothing to say to today’s audience. He contacts his ex-wife with the faint hope of getting back together, only to learn that she’s taken up with his best friend. He announces a birthday party for himself – and no one shows up. On top of this, he suffers from polymyalgia – pain in every nook and cranny - and every part of his body seems to be giving out at once, causing him grief from hemorrhoids to heart. “But,“ he says, “I’ll deal with my decrepitude the old-fashioned way. I’ll ignore it.”
Indeed, the only thing he hasn’t lost is his dark sense of humour as he wryly confronts one indignity after another as they befall him in waves. He says his life is a perfect example of Sturgeon’s Law – “Ninety percent of everything is crap.”
They say comedy is tragedy plus time – but Warren knows he may not have a whole lot of time left. His glass is long past half empty, but there’s still Sturgeon’s last 10%. Decrepitude Blues is a play suffused with humour and heart - in more ways than one - as we follow Warren's last ditch quest to find a glimmer of hope in those final few drops.
* * *
O'Toole's Refinement: "Muphy was an optimist."
Tomorrow is Warren Winter’s birthday. The big Seven O. But he’s not happy about it. In fact, he’s not happy about much of anything. When he left his marriage his wife told him he’d end up old, bitter and alone. And now, as he says: “Old. Check. Bitter. Check. Alone. You betcha.”
He’s just lost his job – a newspaper column he’s had for 30 years – being told he’s old-fashioned and irrelevant with nothing to say to today’s audience. He contacts his ex-wife with the faint hope of getting back together, only to learn that she’s taken up with his best friend. He announces a birthday party for himself – and no one shows up. On top of this, he suffers from polymyalgia – pain in every nook and cranny - and every part of his body seems to be giving out at once, causing him grief from hemorrhoids to heart. “But,“ he says, “I’ll deal with my decrepitude the old-fashioned way. I’ll ignore it.”
Indeed, the only thing he hasn’t lost is his dark sense of humour as he wryly confronts one indignity after another as they befall him in waves. He says his life is a perfect example of Sturgeon’s Law – “Ninety percent of everything is crap.”
They say comedy is tragedy plus time – but Warren knows he may not have a whole lot of time left. His glass is long past half empty, but there’s still Sturgeon’s last 10%. Decrepitude Blues is a play suffused with humour and heart - in more ways than one - as we follow Warren's last ditch quest to find a glimmer of hope in those final few drops.
* * *