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| THE MEMORY BANK |
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.
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| The Star of the Show |
