Monday, March 9, 2015



ACT 1, Scene 1

It’s an average sunny morning in Arizona.  Joe has just finished breakfast and is ready to start his day. He calls his trusted Memory Bank.  The conversation in his mind begins.

JOE.  I’d like to make a deposit into my memory bank.

THE CLERK.  (A pleasant voice.)  Certainly sir, please enter your password.

JOE. (Seems puzzled.)  I don’t know my password.

THE CLERK. (Still a very pleasant voice.)  I’m sorry sir, but without your password, we won’t be able to accept any memories today.

JOE.  (Stunned.)  I didn’t even know I had a password.

THE CLERK.  (Persistent tone.)  Yes Sir, you have a password.  Let me see here.  (Joe hears typing.)  Here it is.  It was added about a year and a half ago, someone by the name of “Al Heimer”.  

JOE.  (Sound effects from “Law and Order” play in his mind.  He starts getting agitated.)  Alright then, let me just withdraw a few memories for today.

THE CLERK. (Speaks louder.)  Sir, as I told you, without a password we won’t be able to accommodate you.

JOE.  (Now quite agitated.)  For crying out loud, who do I need to talk to around here to get a few memories?

THE CLERK. (Condescendingly.) I would suggest that you call your neurologist.

THE NARRATOR. (Soft music plays in the background.)
“Memory banks”, that’s what we call them because they are so valuable.  They’re what defines us as an individual, serving as a road map as we maneuver through our lives. 

Some memories are simple and require little thought.  Some are so important that we back them up by writing them down.  And others may be so terrible we try hard to forget them.

Each day we make deposits and withdrawals through our memory banks.  It’s an automatic process, no passwords or authorizations, we own them; they’re ours to manage, unless you’re living with Al.

Memories are becoming an everyday struggle for Joe because Al has added a password to Joe’s Memory Bank and keeps changing it.  (This is, of course, a metaphor for how it feels to Joe.)

ACT 1, Scene 2

Later that same day.  Things haven’t been going well for Joe.  His memory bank is still locked up.  (The quiet is shattered by the same male voice.)

JOE.   (Search for the lost item.) I know I had it this morning.  It was right by my chair.

JANE. (Trying to be supportive.)  Well, did you look in the bathroom?
JOE. (Annoyed.)  Why would it be in the bathroom?  I always put it next to my chair.

JANE. (Frustrated)  Well, why don’t you look anyway?

JOE. (Shaking his head.)  Okay, but I know it isn’t there. (He leaves and returns again without it.)  I told you it wasn’t there.  (Exasperated, he circles the house searching.)  It’s been stolen. 

JANE. (Working in the kitchen, opens the refrigerator and see’s it on the top shelf.)  Well now, I think I see where the thieves have hidden it.

JOE. (Moves hastily into the kitchen and looks into the open refrigerator.)  Why in the world would they hide my remote control in the refrigerator? 

JANE: (Big sigh.) Maybe they’re Television Critics.

The End (Curtain)

Well, maybe not the end.  I have a feeling there will be a sequel.
The Star of the Show