Sorry for the long hiatus, everybody. I’ve been hard at work doing stand-up and improv at school. Stay tuned for a stand-up album and a film adaptation of this sketch coming very soon.
You can click on the pages to enlarge them.
Sorry for the long hiatus, everybody. I’ve been hard at work doing stand-up and improv at school. Stay tuned for a stand-up album and a film adaptation of this sketch coming very soon.
You can click on the pages to enlarge them.
Paris is lovely mid-spring (I hear it’s kind of dumpy in autumn). The place was just oozing with inspiration. The narrow roads and lumpy cobblestones made my thighs ripple through my skinny jeans. The general populace glistened perpetually in a resin of lard and butter. Aside from the prostitutes and their syphilis, I could see why Benjamin Franklin came so often.
I had my caffeine passport stamped in all of the city’s most renowned cafes. Though the basic function of the establishments was the same, the difference between a coffee shop in New York and these was remarkable. Here, the coffee was Parisian. The attitude was Parisian. The people spoke Parisian. To the casual observer, it might have appeared as a similar situation as when a Midwestern tourist eats at an Applebee’s in Times Square because it’s much different from theirs back home. But to a connoisseur of places in which you sit around all day and think about writing like me, the difference was palpable.
Amidst the oohing and aahing and gawking, I finally remembered the purpose of my journey and spent some time with my typewriter. As I noisily churned through paper, I noticed that I was not the only writer in my coffee establishment du jour. But, instead of a typewriter, these people used a different device. The keys were recessed into an aluminum body, and the typebars were nowhere to be found. And there was no paper. The letters were struck into a dynamic electronic screen, which could then be adjusted as the user saw fit.
This thing was a miracle! One could write a piece, and make as many hard copies as he wished! He could backspace and move text around and look at funny cats while he worked. A dream come true!
I knew in that instant this newfangled machine would be the inspiration for my next work. So, wrested from the tedium of typewriter-dom and ushered into the space age, I packed up my computer and headed back home.
The drama department will be performing their new play, Romeo and Juliet, this weekend for the entire town. This will be their first play of the school year.
Being a self-appointed connoisseur of middle school theater, I was very eager to see the advance press screening of this show. I even got to leave homeroom fifteen minutes early to go see it. Unfortunately, there was a four-alarm fire on the other side of town, meaning all newspapers, besides the Journal, were unable to attend the press screening.
The scenery, hand-painted by Ms. Rosnan and her after-school art club, looked really nice, but they weren’t quite dry and added an unusual runny quality to the play. The orchestra will be playing the score live this weekend, but their services were unavailable at the early showing, so the music was played on cassette.
Brad Wellesly and Sarah Green had the lead roles, and demonstrated themselves as master thespians. Their love story blossomed wonderfully during the twelve minute preview, and their emotion was remarkably realistic. I wish to congratulate whoever did the make-up for concealing Brad’s acne. It was almost unnoticeable. The costumes were spectacular to say the least, and the cast looked authentic to the period.
Due to an ever-tightening budget for the visual arts department at Oakville, parents of students volunteered to help out planning and producing Romeo and Juliet, as usual. I got an exclusive chat with Mr. Spirelli, seventh grader Jake’s dad, who directed the play.
“We wanted to capture the majesty of the time period that is conveyed in the original production. Having spent three weeks as a dancer in an off-Broadway version of Fiddler, I tried my hardest to bring my experience and intimate knowledge of the theater to this play,” he said to me back stage.
For all those interested in seeing this production, it will be showing on Friday and Saturday at 7 p.m. both days. Refreshments will be available for purchase, and I personally recommend the Twizzlers or Mrs. Green’s cupcakes.
– Melvin Roberts
Arts Review
(On the way home from buying bongos)
ME: I think I’m gonna become a beatnik.
BROTHER: Why not just be a hipster?
ME: Too mainstream.
SCENE: A flashy restaurant. A tuxedoed man is seated with his guests, while a sommelier in a white dinner jacket explains the wine list.
CUSTOMER: I’d like something fruity, yet smokey. Ever left a cupcake out in the rain? Something like that. Something that goes down easy.
SOMMELIER: Well, the latest trend is a drink with a little more constitution. I’ve got a personal favorite from New Mexico you might like.
CUSTOMER: Fine, what do you suggest?
SOMMELIER: The Suahcahtaka Merlot might be nice. It complements this group atmosphere nicely. And it’ll go great with the seafood platter, too. It has notes of bacon, stained glass, and nursing home bathwater. Coming from a Northwest South Carolina Sommelier of the Week like myself, it’s got a lovely bouquet.
CUSTOMER: Actually, the seafood looks a bit pricy. How would it go with the duck?
SOMMELIER: Well, you need the seafood. Unless you wanna miss out on the merlot. A fine wine is like a fine woman – both need a loving companion, be it a sensitive male or a seafood platter.
CUSTOMER: Fine. Bring them both out.
(Sommelier brings out the wine. He clumsily pours the wine into a salad dressing can and back into a cup.)
CUSTOMER: That’s an odd-looking decanter.
SOMMELIER: It’s new technology. So, you like the wine?
CUSTOMER (gagging): It’s a little hard to take.
SOMMELIER: It requires a very selective palette, at least that’s what WINE SPECTATOR said. It should almost feel like you’re eating a porcupine. It should be painful. The best wines assault the senses.
CUSTOMER: Can we see the wine list again?