Guy Hoffman

The Dancing Siamese Triplets

Copyright © 2001 by Guy Hoffman

ISBN 0-9712824-1-2


My first play, Another City Another Land, directed by myself, was produced Off-Broadway in l970; the second, A Trinity, was directed by Jo Bellomo in 1982; and, Who Is Going To Save Me?, directed by Robert Mariah in l992.

I decided to have The Dancing Siamese Triplets published rather than have it produced in order to reach a more selective audience.

The play is under more work in 2004. and this e-book is only a short part of the play.



Guy Hoffman’s fantasies are real. They are what torment and drive, and ultimately what reveal him to his true self.

We move—if we move—from darkness to light. This is the passage that has to be negotiated, and our time is limited. We live between dreams—of what we might have been, and of that which we could become—if, we can dare to be ourselves.

But to be oneself—the first truth—must be followed by “doing”; by actualizing what we are in our deepest part, our only real self, from which essence grows, evolution is realized, and our purpose as human beings is fulfilled. This transformation Guy Hoffman calls “Saving God.”

It is likely this play will defy comprehension by those unfamiliar with the ideas of Gurdjieff. Certainly, the reading of it almost certainly will. But as the self cannot be realized except through enactment, the meaning of a play cannot be understood and felt without being seen. It is hoped, therefore, that the reader can visualize and therefore transform the still page into breathing, panting life—catching at least some of the humor and pathos and marvelous high spirits that carry the reader along the way.

By now the ideas of Gurdjieff have infiltrated life. Those of us who have lived these ideas and have used them creatively will in our turn further the possibilities of these ideas continuing in life, not in spite of being individually realized but because they have become intimate, permanent, and indispensable to our existence.

In that Guy Hoffman was saved by the Work (as the Gurdjieff teaching is called), he has placed himself under obligation to save God. Should this strike one at first as a preposterous idea, the evolution of this play, that took forty years to write (i.e., to live) will make it clear that the extraordinary can only be realized through the ordinary vehicle of any one man’s life. Hence we have, throughout the play, the ordinary “conscious” retelling of the facts of the playwright’s existence, as he lived and came to know it, together with the subconscious unfolding of the truth of his existence, as played out in his deepest dreams, through which he is guided to live his love of God, for that God, to be with his God—for his own Being.

David Kherdian, Editor, Stopinder - A Gurdjieff Journal for Our Time


Author, Archangel, Barker

First I, First Clown, Preacher (African-American)

Second I, Ayn Rand, First Angel, Sixth Clown

Third I, Nikos Kazantzakis, Fourth Clown

Gurdjieff, Man, Therapist, Father, Radio Announcer, Hairdresser, Caruso, Partner, Third Clown, Macho Man

Second Angel, Woman, Mother, Client, Wife, Second Clown, Princess

Fifth Clown, Judge, The Lord

They can all be in their 40’s or older.


1973 - 1998


New York City

“… it has come about that a modern man represents three different men in a single individual; the first of whom thinks in complete isolation from the other parts, the second merely feels, and the third acts only automatically.”

G. I. Gurdjieff: The Herald of Coming Good

Typing is heard. Earth tone lights come up on a set that represents the “crevices and mountains of the mind.” Author, downstage left, wearing a gray sweatshirt, is sitting at small desk, thinking and typing. There’s paper on desk. Three Actors, wearing gray sweatshirts with a different color “I”, are standing behind Author.

Author I’m tired. I’m tired of typing words that fail to express what I feel, words that soar with hope only to deflate into despair. I’m tired of sitting here typing straight lines that circle, round and round the words: “ I am God.” I’m tired: tired of thinking, tired of words, tired of typing.

lowers head to typewriter

I’m tired … tired.

First I Oh good, we’re going to get a break.

The I’s lie down. Lights indicate a dream. Fifth Clown, wearing a clown-costume top, a crown, padded muscles, is struggling to hold a globe of the world in the palm of his right hand.

Fifth Clown Help! Help! Will someone please save me!

End of dream. Author lifts his head and sits up.

The I’s jump up.

First I Damn it, it was too good to be true.

Third I What did you expect … a miracle?

Second I Yes, like a bag of chocolate chip cookies.

First I And a normal eight hours of sleep.

Third I Forget about it. We are doomed to sit at this typewriter, forever thinking and typing.

Author continues typing, then stops. Lights indicate another dream. First I lies down to sleep; Second I paces, twisting hair; Third I does some dancing. Judge, wearing a black robe, white wig, and holding a whiskey bottle; moves to judge’s stand, upstage right.

Second I The Judge is here. … Wake up. The Judge is here.

First I stands.


takes a drink from bottle, pounds gavel

The Court of Many I’s is now in session. Will the I’s of the personality of the Real Me, step forward and voice their complaints?

Three I’s I …

Second & Third I I …

Second I I’m tired. I want more time to sleep.

Third I I’m lonely. I want to go dancing, and tumble in the sheets.

Second I I’m a nervous wreck, pacing back and forth, twisting my hair. I want a cookie, a chocolate chip cookie.

Judge Does the Real Me have anything to say in his defense?

Author When I’m working on my play, I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing and everything is as it should be.

Third I Freedom, we want freedom.

Three I’s We want freedom. We want freedom. We want freedom.


pounds gavel

I will deliberate and judge the validity of the complaints against the Real Me.

drinks, pounds gavel

The Court of Many I’s is back in session. After a soul-searching deliberation to balance the Scale of Justice under the Constitution guaranteeing the rights of each individual “I”, this court finds the Real Me guilty of being selfish.

Second I Freedom!

First I Liberty!

Third I Sex!

Second I Chocolate chip cookies!

Three I’s Hooray!


pounds gavel

Order in my court! Does the Real Me have anything to say before sentencing?

Author Yes.

Judge Proceed.

Author Any activity that takes me away from my time to write is, in my opinion, a waste of the time and energy allotted to me in this life.

Second I He has disciplined us into second-class citizens—

First & Third I Yes!

Second I depriving us of our human rights.

Author I respectfully disagree. I petition the Court to declare a mistrial so I can get on with my writing.

Second I Oh no, Your Honor.

Third I Please!

First I We beg you!

Third I Don’t send us back to that typewriter!

Second I He wants to save God.

Judge WHAT?

Three I’s He wants to save God.

Judge I will not tolerate any fabricated complaints.

Third I It’s true.

First I I swear.

Second I I cross my heart.

Three I’s And hope to die.

Judge There is no God! God exists only in the imagination of sentimental, weak, and emotionally disturbed RELIGIOUS FANATICS!


This court, protector and defender of freedom, liberty and the pursuit of pleasure, finds the Real Me guilty of not only being selfish, but also guilty of harboring revolutionary thoughts. Therefore, I sentence the Real Me to follow any impulse, any desire, that so pleases any one of the many different I’s of his personality.

I’s rush at Author, dragging him along to participate in their different activities.

Three I’s Freedom!

Third I I want to party and dance.

They dance to Rock & Roll music. Judge drinks and laughs, devilishly.

I want sex—wild, kinky sex.

They lie on their backs, moving pelvises up and down, exaggerating sexual sounds.

First I I’m exhausted. I want to sleep.

They roll over on their stomachs. Pause.

Second I

jumps up, paces, twisting hair

I want a chocolate chip cookie.

They mime eating cookies.

More chocolate chip cookies.

Third I

to Second I

You’re a cookie-monster-shithead.

Second I

to Third I

You’re a sex maniac.

First I I’m tired. I want to sleep.

Second I I’m the Real Me.

Third I No, I’m the Real Me.

First I I’m the Real Me.

Three I’s


I am, I am, I am, I am, I am.

Author sneaks away and begins typing. Typing sound is amplified.

I am, I am, I am, I am.


pounding gavel

Stop fighting you idiots, and stop that religious fanatic from typing! Stop! Stop! Stop that goddamn typing!



Judge falls backwards, gets up without wig, exposing horns, grabs whiskey bottle, and runs offstage.

First I Did you see, did you see that the Judge had horns?

Second I

picking up wig

There’s nothing left but his wig.

throws wig into air

Ugh! He was some creep!

Third I Talk about being selfish, he never even offered us a drink.

First I What are we going to do now?



You are going to stop fooling around and pay attention.

Second I I can’t wait until he finishes this play.

Third I Forget about it, we’re in for the long haul.


reading from page

I was in a high state of excitement, telling my therapist about my write-up in Vogue magazine, and my wife’s first acting part in an Off-Broadway play, when I felt a surge of emotions and blurted out: “I am God.”

Laughter is heard. End of dream. Author cleans desk of papers, and starts moving offstage.

I’m wasting my time. No one is going to believe me.

Second I It’s a miracle.

Third I I’m going out to celebrate and get laid.

Second I I’m going to binge on a ton of chocolate chips.

First I I’m going to sleep late every morning, t’hell with getting up in the middle of the night to sit at that damn typewriter.

They exit. Meditation music. Author, wearing a T-shirt, holding a typewriter cover and a seat cushion, moves onstage, puts cover on typewriter, and sits cross-legged on cushion, eyes closed. Pause.

Author This is boring, sitting here meditating. And for what—a guiding light of inspiration, nirvana, enlighten-ment? If only I could write. If … if, if, if, I’ve run out of ifs. I’m blocked. That’s all there is to it.

Author lies down using cushion as a pillow. Lights indicate a dream. Kazantzakis, black mustache, black rimmed glasses. Rand, dark brown wig styled in a short straight bob. Gurdjieff, a baldhead covering, a grayish handlebar mustache. They are wearing different colored loose fitting tops, and throwing a white Frisbee.

Author What is going on? … Hey, you’re Ayn Rand, Nikos Kazantzakis, and Gurdjieff. This is fantastic. It’s unbelievable. Ayn Rand, Gurdjieff, and Kazantzakis—three of my favorite authors. … Mr. Kazantzakis, I responded to your call for action by mobilizing my thoughts and energy into writing a play to save God.

K looks at Author and drops Frisbee.


to R and G

I apologize for allowing myself to be distracted.


to K

I worked on my play for years.

to R

This might sound silly, but when I read Atlas Shrugged, I wanted to stop the world to save God.

Rand Stop the world to save God! What an idiotic, stupid, slanderous interpretation of my philosophy. There is no God. Man is supreme. Reason is his only absolute.


to G

I was in a Gurdjieff Group for seven years.

G throws Frisbee to Author, catching him off guard. Author ducks, putting hands on head for protection as Frisbee goes sailing past him.

Author You’re going to let me play?

Gurdjieff I already throw Frisbee.

Rand You ducked and let it sail on by.

Author I had no idea he was going to throw it to me.

Gurdjieff Should I throw Frisbee again, you have courage to stand like man and catch?

Rand Without ducking like a bleeding-heart liberal?

Author I wasn’t expecting it. He caught me off-guard.

Rand Let me throw it to him.

Rand first fakes, then throws Frisbee.


dropping Frisbee

Ouch! That really hurt.

Rand And you wanted to stop the world!

Kazantzakis I would like to throw it to him.

Gurdjieff He never catch. To play Frisbee must be conscious.


holding Frisbee

Selfish, selfish in the pursuit of your own happiness; and happiness is the ultimate reward for your integrity, your values, your love of work—for the objective reasoning of your mind. … And to stand alone if necessary until your dying breath to keep alive the hero in your soul.


motioning for Frisbee



ignoring G

Do not allow the looters, the savages, the mystics to

squash your life under a cross of lies—that your life

has no meaning, that your mind is impotent, that the greatest good is to sacrifice your life for your neighbor, your country, a God that they have created in their image and likeness.

Gurdjieff Ayn …


throws Frisbee to G

A is A, and two and two make four.


throws Frisbee to K

And you, Nikos, you have words of wisdom?


holding Frisbee

All my life I struggled to reconcile two diametrically opposed forces. One roamed through the crevices and mountains of my mind scaling great thoughts of hope, happiness, and immortality. The other, my soul, cried out: No, never, there is only the abyss. The earth, insects, plants, animals, man, and God are crying out: Save me.

Gurdjieff C’est tres esoteric.

Author I think …

Rand It’s impossible to think without a reasoning mind.

Kazantzakis I would like to throw Frisbee to our new friend.

Gurdjieff Frisbee in your hand.

Rand This should be fun—a hairdresser playing Frisbee.


seeing that Author is tense


K throws Frisbee. Author drops it.

Author Oh, no.

Kazantzakis That’s okay. It takes time. Throw it back.

Author throws Frisbee, it falls short.

Author I’m sorry, I’m nervous.


retrieving Frisbee

That was to be expected. It was your first throw.

Gurdjieff Let me have Frisbee. … What I have in hand?

Author A Frisbee.

Gurdjieff Good. Divide attention between body and Frisbee. Where is attention?

Author On my body … and the Frisbee.

Gurdjieff Good.

G throws Frisbee. Author drops it.

Author I, I’m sorry, I’m nervous, I feel inadequate. I don’t have the skill, I …



Stop! You lost self in negative emotion of self-pity. Pick up Frisbee.

Author goes to pick up Frisbee, trips over his own feet, falls down. K helps Author up.

Kazantzakis I am sure with time and practice you will be an excellent Frisbee player.

Rand There is not the slightest possibility of that ever happening, Nikos.

Gurdjieff To throw Frisbee must work to be conscious.

Rand Objective.

Gurdjieff Yah, mein kindt, objective.


holding Frisbee up

If you are sincere, and you persist, you will ascend the mountain peaks of your desire and talent, and save what is good and decent in you.

K throws - Frisbee hits Author in chest.

Author Ouch.

Author staggers back, falling backwards.

Gurdjieff What you do in Gurdjieff group, suck on thumb and play with penis?

G and R laugh with K joining in. Author starts moving offstage, stops.



You’re a bunch of phony hyenas, egomaniacs, and charlatans!

G, K and R move offstage.

Egomaniacs and charlatans!

G, holding Vodka bottle and two large shot glasses, moves onstage, hands Author a shot glass, fills glasses.


British accent

To world’s most dedicated, serious playwright.



Why … thank you!

They clink glasses. G drinks down shot. Author takes a sip.

Gurdjieff If you celebrate—CELEBRATE!

mimes drinking down shot.


drinks down shot


Author staggers back, falls backwards.

Gurdjieff You mean ouch, it hurts.

G laughs. Author, dejectedly starts moving offstage.


Stop! Sometimes necessary to be actor in waking up sleeping playwright.

Pause. Author picks up shot glass, returns, and holds it up.

refilling shot glasses

Now you real man. Celebrate!

They drink down shots.

Author Wow!

G laughs as K and R move on stage with shot glasses.


filling shot glasses

We always know you have heart of artist.

Author It would have been nice to let me know.

Rand And spoil our fun of throwing insults at you?

Kazantzakis And deprive you of the opportunity to learn how to throw Frisbee?


laughs, raises shot glass, no accent

To world’s most dedicated, serious playwright!

Rand To the hero in your soul!

Kazantzakis To a savior of God!

They drink down shots.



I would like to apologize for my outrageous, incompre … incomprehensible outburst when you were teaching me

to play … to throw Frisbee. I sincerely, yes, sincerely apologize from the inscrutable bottom of my … of my

… of my …

Gurdjieff Of my heart.

Author Yes, yes, yes, from the bottom of my heart.

drinks from empty shot glass, falls backwards

Wow! I mean ouch! I mean fantastic!

They break up laughing. End of dream. Pause.

Author jumps up, moves to typewriter.

impersonating G

If you celebrate,

flings typewriter cover into the air


Author picks up cushion and typewriter cover, moves offstage. He returns holding a stack of paper, and followed by I’s.

Third I Here we go again, another play.

Second I You would think that after being bombed out

by the Times he would have come to his senses.

First I That dream with the three lunatics throwing Frisbee revived his spirits.

Second I He’s lost in a dream of playing with the big boys.

Author No more sitting around meditating, it’s back to work.

types, moves away from typewriter.

Whenever Author moves away from typewriter, he will talk with a slight stutter.

Author What if Shakespeare w-was right when he wrote: “All the world’s a stage. And men and women merely p-players.” If you were to play the part of G-God, how would you play him, or her? How would you look? Would you be a Jewish God, a Christian, a Muslim, or a B-Buddhist? What would be your c-commandments, your sermon on the mount? And if there’s a Heaven, what would it look like, w-what would you do there—play a harp, sing in a choir?

Author returns to typing. Lights indicate the passing of time. He reads from his script.

The Dancing Siamese Triplets. Scene one. On A Tropical Island Somewhere In Space.

Author moves offstage followed by I’s.

I think I’ll play the part of the Archangel.

Third I I don’t believe it. He is going to act in his own play.

First I He lost his balance off that thin line that separates normal neurotics from psycho neurotics.

Third I I hope we don’t end up in some mental institution.

Second I


A cookie, a cookie, my kingdom for a CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE!

They exit, laughing. Overture from Oklahoma.

Sky blue lights come up on Two Angels wearing white gowns and white headbands with silver trim.

First Angel Sometimes I get so bored listening to all those Broadway Musicals.

Second Angel The Lord loves Broadway Musicals.

First Angel I know, but how many times can you sit through Oklahoma? I dozed off and dreamed there was

an explosion on the planet Earth.

Second Angel You have been indulging in your favorite pastime of daydreaming. You’d better get-your-act-together or you will be exiled to the planet Earth.

First Angel

ballet pose

To be a world famous ballerina.

Second Angel I was thinking more along the lines of a tollbooth collector.

First Angel Oh so funny dumb!

Second Angel How about playing some tennis?

First Angel I would rather sit under a palm tree, soaking up a pina colada.

Second Angel Look, the Archangel has returned.

Author appears as the Archangel wearing a white gown and headband with gold trim.

First Angel Our beloved Archangel, what wisdom has The Lord bestowed upon you?

Archangel There is going to be an explosion on the planet Earth.

First Angel My dream was right on!

Second Angel I can’t wait to hear what miracle our most compassionate Lord God is going to come up with.

Archangel There will be no miracles.

Second Angel No miracles?

Archangel Under no circumstances are we to interfere with the lives of those poor, unfortunate souls living on

that ill-fated planet.

Second Angel How is The Lord going to save them?

Archangel I will make visible for your enlightenment,

our most compassionate Lord God, who favored me with his presence.

Lights come up on The Lord wearing a white gown, a blue baseball cap with “NYC”, and sunglasses.

The Lord

pacing, agitated

Yes, my Archangel, I, The Lord God, have suffered in silence from the moment it became clear that I made a colossal blunder in creating human beings. They have voluntarily abdicated their thinking and reasoning, their good common sense to anyone babbling on and on in the name of one of my beloved messengers.

First Angel It never entered my mind that The Lord was suffering.

Second Angel Who would have believed it!

The Lord When their life is winding down to a dead-end and their memories are clogged with regrets, they call out my name to have mercy on their soul. What soul are they talking about … the soles of their feet?


In their famous book …

Archangel follows The Lord whenever he sits and stands.

Archangel What book is that, Lord?

The Lord Their Bible.

Archangel Oh, yes.

The Lord They say that before Mary and Joseph came together, she was found with the child of the Holy Ghost. Would you please explain to me how that is possible?

Am I missing something? Was I on vacation?


Jesus preached love; love one another. In their collective psychoses, they believe they have the moral obligation to annihilate one another in my name.


They are hell-bent on playing one of their war games—Big Bang Nuclear Explosion. There are no rules, one explosion and—

raising arms

puff … or is it poof?

Archangel Who is going to save them?

The Lord Who is going to save ME? … Yes, my Archangel, who is going to save ME?


raises arms, moves downstage

I’m stopping the performance of this play, to give you an autobiographical sketch, highlighting the essential moments of my life.

to The Lord and Angels

You can take five.

The Lord and Angels move offstage.

Author It all started in April of l962. I was thirty-two.

Man (Therapist), holding a yellow pad and a

pen moves onstage.

Man and Woman, who play different parts in

autobiographical sketch, wear blue sweatshirts,

and face audience when saying their lines.

I was in a high state of excitement telling my therapist about my write-up in Vogue magazine, and my wife’s first acting part in an Off-Broadway play, when I felt a surge of emotions and blurted out: “ I am God.”

Therapist You can’t be God.What you experienced was …

Author I did not believe in God, nevertheless, I was forced to go back over my life in the hope of coming to some understanding of why the words: “I am God” inexplicably escaped from somewhere in my subconscious.

Child’s screaming and crying is heard.

My first memory is screaming and crying, surrounded by figures towering over me. I was three years old. I was in a home for underprivileged children. In the 2nd or 3rd grade, they transferred me to a special class with several other children.

Teacher moves onstage.

Teacher I would like you to tell me a story.



I-I-I-I-I ….



What are you doing?

Author I’m playing a frightened boy.


Author My speech problem ballooned into a pervasive, debilitating fear that if someone would hear me stutter,

they would laugh.

Laughter is heard.

Author At the age of thirteen, I was sent back to my parents.

Father, shoulders hunched, head lowered; stands alongside Mother.



Get up, get up and go to work!



Get the hell out of here and leave me alone!

Author My father was a house painter. He hated to get

out of bed and go to work.

Mother You’re a bum, a good-for-nothing-lazy-bum!

Author He would come home from work and mope around the house without ever saying a word. Once, in

a rare moment of communication, he showed me some sketches hidden in a box in the basement.

Father I loved to draw and paint as a boy. My dream was to be an artist. At one time, I was a cartoon illustrator for

a newspaper, but things just didn’t work out. I got married and …


things just didn’t work out.

Author My mother was a hypochondriac and hoarded pennies with the grasp of a miser. She suffocated my real feelings with her selfish, neurotic love.


arms tightly crossed - gushingly

My boy, my baby boy. You’re so handsome with your cherry brown eyes, your cute little dimple and golden

curls. My boy, my baby boy.

Author I slouched through all my school days, hiding behind a student in front of me—never raising my hand to answer a question. I barely graduated with a D- average.

Mother Get up, get up and go to work!

Father I’m going to kill myself!

Mother You’re a bum, a good-for-nothing-lazy-bum!

Father Go to hell, you money hungry bitch!

Author To escape from the self-loathing, screaming hatred of my parents; and a childhood of never knowing one moment of feeling good or being happy, I enlisted in the Navy as a Morse code radio operator—it didn’t require any talking.

Morse code is heard.

But because I was unable to concentrate, they transferred me to an office to do filing and to answer the telephone. They might as well have sent me to the war in Korea. Talking on the telephone was my worst nightmare.

Laughter is heard over the sound of a ringing telephone.

After my discharge from the Navy, my spirits were flying high on a bus to New York City and the National Hospital for Speech Disorders. I crashed, free-falling in a whirlpool of despair—compared to the other patients; my speech problem was barely noticeable. I was shocked into the realization that I had wasted away my childhood, imagining that if someone would hear me stutter, they would laugh.

The sound of an alarm clock.



Get up and go to work! You’re a bum, a good-for-nothing-lazy bum.

Author I dreaded the sound of the alarm shocking me awake to days that dragged on and on, working at boring, meaningless jobs—like working in a factory stacking six shirts to a box.



I’m going to kill myself!

Author I didn’t know why I was alive, or what life was all about.

Foxtrot music is heard.

At a dance, at the 92nd Street Y, my partner abruptly stopped dancing.



Why don’t you learn how to dance!

Radio Announcer Are you a wallflower? Learn

to dance the Arthur Murray way and dance your way to popularity.


arms raised in a dance position, dancing

I practiced in the streets and on subway platforms. I

practiced until I collapsed onto my bed, too exhausted

to undress. … I practiced my way into becoming a dance instructor.

Author and Woman dance some Foxtrot, Mambo, and Tango. Music stops.

moving away from Woman

Dancing was the only real happiness I had ever known, but looking into the future, I could see storm clouds of stagnation and boredom.

Man places a red wig, teased into a bouffant style

of the late 50’s, on Woman.

I chose hairdressing as my new profession. It was artistic, and I could foresee the possibility of opening my own business.

Hairdresser Get the clients in and out, and sell perms and hair coloring, that’s where you’re going to make your money.

Author It took all my courage to walk into the Caruso Salon to ask if there was an opening for a hairstylist.

Man places a glamorous blonde wig on Woman.

Caruso was the top hairstylist in the country.

Caruso From all the questions you keep asking me, I can tell you’re not an experienced hairstylist. You can look for another job or stay here and take a cut in salary.

Author I gladly took a cut in salary. He answered one of my questions with—

Caruso It’s not important.

Author It had to be important when you started out or you would never be the artist you are now.

Woman moves offstage.

After learning all that I was supposed to have learned, I opened a business with another hairdresser.

Client, wearing a natural straight wig, moves onstage between Author & Partner.

Partner If we want to stay in business, we have to give the clients what they want, and they want a night of screwing around and to get up in the morning with every hair in place. I say fuck ‘em. I say tease the hair if that’s what they want.

Author My partner was right, but every time I violated my sense of what I thought was natural and beautiful, I felt nauseous with feelings of sadness.

Partner moves offstage.

Client Oh, I love it! I always wanted my hair to look natural and glamorous.


romantically interested

What type of work do you do?

Client I’m a secretary.

Author Do you like it?

Client It’s boring. I hate it.

Author Is there something you would really like to do?

Client I came to New York to study acting. My dream

is to be in a Broadway show. I want to be famous and see my name in lights.

Author kisses Client. Client moves offstage.

Author I fell in love with her dream.

Joking and laughing is heard.

We were married. … Whenever my wife rehearsed a scene with other actors, I could hear them talking and joking around.

Wife moves onstage.



Why in the hell don’t you take your acting seriously? You have talent, and you’re strikingly beautiful, but you’re wasting your time joking and fooling around! It annoys the hell out of me!

Wife I’m going into therapy and I think you should also see a therapist.


Therapist, holding a yellow pad and a pen, moves onstage.

Author From the moment I started talking about my real feelings, words erupted as if from a volcano. There was no stuttering, no fear.

Therapist moves offstage.

At Christmas time, after the “I am God” incident, my mother-in-law gave me The Saviors of God by Nikos Kazantzakis.

Man moves onstage.


reading from book

“It is not God who will save us—it is we who will save God, by battling, by creating, and by transmuting matter into spirit.”


Author I called my therapist and bluntly told him I was terminating my therapy. My wife and I agreed to go our separate ways. Her way was to fly nonstop to the bright lights of Broadway. My way was to walk, at my own pace, on any path that would lead me to God. … I read all kinds of religious and spiritual books, spent some time in a monastery, experimented with Yoga and Zen, and on most Sundays I would watch the TV evangelists. … One night I was startled out of my sleep. At the foot of my bed was an apparition that resembled a thin figure with a beard. I just stared at it. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. I didn’t know if it was real or a dream. I heard a scream. I jumped up and looked out the window. A Yellow Cab was speed-ing down the street. A man was attacking a woman in the back seat. Her arms were flailing in the air, and she was screaming: “Help! Help!” Tears welled up in my eyes; my heart pounded with the thought: “God is crying out for help. If I don’t do something, I will hear that scream for the rest of my life.” … Okay, actors, back on stage.

moves back upstage.

The Lord and Angels move onstage.

Let’s pick it up at “Who is going to save me?”

The Lord Who is going to save ME? Yes, my Archangel, who is going to save ME?


“Give my regards to Broadway. Remember me to Herald Square. Tell all the gang on 42nd Street ...”


In the beginning, I created from a dream, a planet of

breathtaking beauty. To stand above all other living

things, I created a man and a woman.

choking back tears

In my dream, they loved one another, multiplied, and lived in freedom and happiness, and they took great joy in all

that I had created. Now, at this moment in time, they are spoiled, spiritually starved children bloated with greed.


Archangel They have lost their way, someone has to save them.

The Lord Who would you recommend—The Man in the Moon, the Tooth Fairy, Superman?

Archangel I request your blessing to descend to the planet Earth.

The Lord


No! I will not allow you, or any angel, to descend to that crazy, immoral, polluted planet. If they should find you

out, they will drive themselves into a frenzy of religious indignation and hunt you down.

moves upstage.

Second Angel What are we going to do?

First Angel I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.

Archangel It’s a shame those poor, misguided souls will disintegrate into a cloud of dust not knowing that The Lord was only a thought or an action away.

Archangel and Angels exit.

The Lord

facing upstage - singing

“Oh, what a beautiful mornin’, Oh, what a beautiful day. I got a beautiful feelin’ … ”

faces audience, takes off sunglasses

I would love to bless all those wonderful songwriters of Broadway Musicals. Their music and lyrics have seen me through so many disappointments—so many, but I, The Lord God, must guard against showing any partiality. I must be all loving, all knowing, and absolutely perfect. …

I suffer an unbearable, insurmountable sadness. I cannot help but think that my dream of creation, the sole purpose of my being, will disintegrate into a nightmare of violence and destruction.


“Give my regards to Broadway.”


If I could be someone other than me, I think I would like to be a Broadway Musical Star.

Singing - an original song

If I could be someone other than me, like a Broadway Musical Star, singing and dancing in romantic leads, my name in lights on a marquee—oh yes, to be someone other than me.

Angels move onstage, kneel. The Lord puts sunglasses back on.

Is there something you have to say that demands my immediate attention?

First Angel We have terrible news.

Second Angel The Archangel has descended to the planet Earth.

First Angel We tried to stop him.

The Lord I was preoccupied with my own thoughts. What did the Archangel say?

Archangel moves onstage.


facing audience - determined

I can no longer remain on this tropical island of heavenly bliss knowing The Lord is suffering. I will descend to the planet Earth under a guise of … yes, a barker in a carnival of clowns.


The Lord The Archangel has disobeyed my wishes.

First & Second Angel Yes, Lord.

The Lord

moving upstage - singing

“I’s gets weary, I’m sick of tryin’, I’m tired of livin’ …”


Earth tone lights. Author, followed by I’s, moves onstage.

Third I He has some nerve, playing the part of the Archangel.

Second I He’s a frustrated actor.

Third I He stutters.

Second I Not in his imagination.

First I The next thing ya know, he’ll want to do Shakespeare. “To be, or not to be: that is the question.”

Second I


A cookie, a cookie, my kingdom for a CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE!

Third I Will you stop with the cookies for cryin’ out loud?

Second I If you stop obsessing about getting laid.

Third I Obsessing?! It’s shriveling up into a no-show with the personality of a monk!

Author Let’s calm down, I’m working on a new scene.

Author types - stops to think.

First I I’m bored.

Second I

twisting hair

I’m depressed.

Third I I’m lonely. I’m climbing the walls. I want to

have an intimate relationship.

Second I Love.

Third I A family.

Second I We want to live the American Dream.

Three I’s We want freedom.


moves away from typewriter

I got m-married for the second time, became a happy father, and moved to the s-suburbs. I had everything to be thankful for, but I felt like a fish out of water. After years of drifting apart, my wife and I amicably agreed to go our s-separate ways.

returns to typewriter.

Third I He’s a piece of shit, abandoning his family.

First I Selfish.

Third I Emotionally immature.

Second I And we’re going to be disciplined again to sit

at that damn typewriter.

Author Do you guys think I enjoy sitting here struggling to locate words that I know will never be good enough to express my … my story, my experience, my illumination?

Three I’s Your obsession.

Author Yes, my obsession.

reading from script as he moves offstage, followed by I’s

Scene two! The Carnival of Clowns. Carnival music.

First I I’ll bet he plays the part of the Barker.

Second I What about the Strongman of the Spiritual World?

Third I How about one of the Dancing Siamese Triplets?

First I He’s more suitable for the gentle, loving Lamb. Baa, baa.

Carnival music. Colored lights. Author appears as the Barker wearing a colorful tuxedo jacket and top hat.

Barker Ladies and Gentlemen, and children of all ages, The Carnival of Clowns takes great pleasure in presenting for your enlightenment, a spectacular show that will lift your spirits to heights never before imagined. The price of

admission is your undivided attention. Please welcome—The Tumbling Clowns of I Believe.

Clowns, wearing clown-costume tops, tinseled wigs, do gymnastics before saying their lines.

Fourth Clown I believe God sits on a throne in Heaven meditating on his creation.

Second Clown I believe God disapproves of children, laughter and sex.

Third Clown I believe God wants you down on your knees, praying and wailing.

Sixth Clown I believe God demands blind faith, and

wants you to be his servant.

Fifth Clown I believe God will answer your prayers if you go to church and read the Bible.

First Clown I believe God is omnipotent.

Fourth Clown I believe God is love.

Third Clown I believe God is suffering and crying out

for help.

Clowns hold hands, raise arms, and bow.

Barker Are you living in darkness? Are you afraid of your own shadow? Our Clown of Courage and Determination will demonstrate how to escape from the blinding darkness of fear.

Sixth Clown, arms tightly crossed, blindfolded,

and trembling with fear.

Sixth Clown Fear of what people might say or do. Fear I will say something or do something stupid. Fear of violence, fear of pain and suffering, fear of all the horror stories I have created in my imagination. Fear of growing old, of being sick, of dying; fear of the unknown—fear, fear, fear. T’hell with fear. I’m going to live!

flings blindfold into the air, dancing.

Barker Ladies and Gentlemen, the Juggling Clown of Indecision will not—I repeat—will not be able to juggle without an intervening, outside, neutralizing force.

Fourth Clown, wearing a dunce cap, arms extended outwards, holding a red ball in right hand, a black ball in left, moves arms up and down, but he cannot juggle. Fifth Clown moves around Fourth Clown repeating throwing a white ball into the air.

Fourth Clown

moving right arm


moving left arm


moving right arm


moving left arm


moving right arm


moving left arm


Fifth Clown

throws white ball to Fourth

Go for it!

Fourth juggles all three balls.

knocking off Fourth Clown’s dunce cap.


Barker Say yes to the Guru of Infinite Knowledge who will answer all of your questions.

Third Clown, wearing a saffron colored turban, sitting on a large pillow, legs crossed, hands resting on knees, palms up, eyes closed.

Formulate your question in your mind and focus your attention on the Guru.

Third Clown Ohm. Ohm. Ohm.

Barker Focus your attention on the Guru.

Third Clown

opening eyes— accent

A is A, and two and two make four.

Barker And when it rains, the sidewalks are wet. … To further stimulate your intellectual curiosity: a question, a riddle, a koan to meditate on from a Zen Master.

First Clown, wearing a black headband, sitting

back on his heels.

First Clown

with accent, slow and deliberate

If the Kingdom of Heaven is within you … where is God?

Barker A Whirling Dervish will revolve with other beings to reach a state of Universal Love.

Second, Fourth and Sixth Clowns wearing “sikke” hats, a white sash around their waists, arms extended, right palm up, left palm down, eyes looking left as they pivot on left foot, whirling left to Sufi music.

Sixth Clown The Soul.

Second Clown The Real Self.

Fourth Clown The Real Me.

Sixth Clown The Creator.

Second Clown The Almighty.

Sixth Clown Jehovah.

Fourth Clown Brahma.

Second Clown Allah.

Sixth Clown Nirvana.

Fourth Clown Enlightenment.

Clowns cross arms, bow to each other, and give each other high-fives.

Barker The Carnival of Clowns proudly presents the Strongman of the Spiritual World, who will balance the weight of the world in the palm of one hand.

Fifth Clown, wearing a crown, padded muscles,

and holding a globe of the world in the palm of his right hand.

Fifth Clown I am not perfect. I make mistakes. Fear is my companion. If you try to save me, I will do whatever I can to help you. It is my wish—

staggering from the weight of the globe

that you live in freedom and be one with me.

Barker The Three-in-One, there is only One—The Dancing Siamese Triplets.

Can-can music. First, Second and Third Clowns, arms around each other, hips touching, wearing white eye masks. Second Clown kicks, pulling them left; First Clown kicks, pulling them right.

First Clown I think.

Second Clown I feel.

First Clown I think.

Second Clown I feel.

Third Clown


Hey, what about me?

First Clown Who are you?

Third Clown I’m your very own body.

Second Clown So what’s the big deal?

Third Clown If you want to sing and dance in harmony, you have to include me.

First Clown That sounds right.

Second Clown It feels right, too.

Third Clown If you think it is right, and it feels right, let’s get on with the show—one, two, three.

They kick in unison.

First Clown I think.

Second Clown I feel.

First, Second & Third Clowns As one.

First Clown I think.

Second Clown I feel.

First, Second & Third Clowns As one.

First Clown I think.

Second Clown I feel.

First, Second & Third Clowns As one.

Barker The Grand Master of Ballroom Dancing—


raises arms, moves downstage

I’m going to interrupt here for a moment. … One night, when I was learning how to dance, I practiced myself into

a state of exhaustion, collapsing onto my bed, not having the energy to get undressed. My feet later awakened me with their movements of practicing dance steps. I awoke with my first sensation ever of being alive. Dancing was my first love, my first taste of happiness; the first time I had ever felt good about myself.

moves back upstage.

Barker The Grand Master of Ballroom Dancing will now divulge for the first time, his long kept secret on how to become a good dancer.

Tango music. Fifth Clown, wearing a black caballero hat and a vest. Sixth Clown, wearing

a long black wig with a red rose and a red satin sash around her waist. They dance an exhibition style tango.

Fifth Clown

dances, poses— suave accent


dances, poses


dances, poses

Practice. And teach someone everything you know about dancing.

dances, poses.

They throw kisses to the audience.

Barker Let the children come forward to hear the story of The Big Bad Wolf in pursuit of The Gentle Loving Lamb.

Fourth Clown, wearing a red cape with a hood, the other Clowns sitting in front of him, has a Wolf puppet on right hand and a Lamb puppet on left.

Fourth Clown

moving Wolf puppet, bored

Owoo, owoo.

moving Lamb puppet, loving

Baa, baa.

Wolf looks at Lamb, excited

Owoo, owoo.


Baa, baa.

Wolf chases Lamb in circles, alternating between excitement and fear

Owoo, baa, owoo, baa, owoo, baa, owoo, baa, baa, baa.

Wolf is about to devour Lamb


pulls Wolf away from Lamb

If you devour the Lamb, you will live in solitary confine-ment for the rest of your days, in the dark dungeon of your soul.

raising Lamb to level of Wolf - ferociously

Owoo. Owoo. Owoo.

to Wolf

The rest of your days in solitary confinement.

Pause. Lamb waves and wiggles, flirting

Baa, baa, baa.


Owoo, owoo.

Wolf and Lamb move around each other, lovingly

Owoo, baa, owoo, baa, owoo, baa, owoo, baa, baa, baa.

Clowns cheer as Fourth Clown waves goodbye with Wolf and Lamb puppets.


raises arms, moves downstage

Before we continue, I think it’s important that I talk to you about hair. … When I started out as a hairdresser in the fifties, hair was teased and sprayed into bouffant styles. It was generally accepted that if you wanted to make money, you had to convince the clients that they looked beautiful and glamorous with their hair set and teased, and to push perms and hair coloring. When I opened my business, I never pressured my clients to have their hair styled in a set look, or have a perm, or color, or anything. I only wanted to cut their hair in a natural, wash-and-wear style. After the write up in Vogue, we were the leaders in setting a new trend in hairstyling.

moves back upstage.

Barker The Carnival of Clowns presents our very own storyteller who will entertain you with a fable—Climbing

the Mountain in Search of Beautiful Hair.

Clowns stand behind Sixth Clown who is wearing a jester’s hat.

Sixth Clown Once-upon-a-time there lived a girl who believed she had thin hair. She searched out the best and most expensive hair salon, where they initiated her into the art of camouflage-slash-distraction by teasing her hair into a fat, bouffant style. The next morning she leaped out of bed, looked in the mirror at her fat bouffant, and screamed. Her thin hair was staring back at her.




Sixth Clown In a support group of women who hated their hair, she got up in front of everyone and impulsively, hysterically acknowledged—my name is Alice, and I have thin hair.


applauding, showing support


Sixth Clown Not believing for one second that her hair was beautiful, she retreated to a Zen monastery. She meditated for years on the sound of one strand of hair splitting.

Clowns Shhh.

Sixth Clown Searching for the meaning of life in a bookstore, she came across a book about a flower with magical powers that could transform almost anything womanly—from the shape of her face, to the size of her breast, to the texture of her hair. This miraculous flower bloomed only on the peak of the highest mountain.




Sixth Clown With a backpack loaded down with high-energy candy bars and bottles of Spring Water, she set out on her climb up steep, convoluting cliffs that disappeared from view into dark, foreboding clouds. A ghostlike witch, with barbed wire hair, screeching astride a bolt of lightning, zapped her with a high voltage of fear.




Sixth Clown Nights of severe electric-shock turbulence, and days of scorching pain and suffering, depressed her into thinking of turning back. Her self-initiated fear of living her life to the end with thin hair, mercilessly prodded her to climb higher and higher. She climbed, crawled, and scratched her way to the top of the mountain peak; and let out a curdling scream of despair.


a scream of despair


Sixth Clown And collapsed into a flash flood of tears.




Sixth Clown There, on the mountain peak, was a beautiful, perfectly shaped, artificial flower; and a gravestone with graffiti in blood-red lipstick and black mascara: Here lie the remains of a beautiful woman who never took the time to look into a mirror beyond her reflection.


shaking heads, showing disapproval


Sixth Clown In the clear atmosphere of the high altitude, a full moon in a heavenly blue sky illuminated her

reflection in the pool of her own tears. There, smiling back at her, she saw the most beautiful—

Clowns the most beautiful—

Sixth Clown the most beautiful hair.

Sixth Clown curtsies. Clowns applaud.

Barker Ladies and Gentlemen—The choir of The First Church of Universal Happiness.

Original Gospel music. Lights down. Barker, and Clowns who are wearing black gowns, stand in a semicircle, singing.

Third Clown If you are lonely,

Second Clown unhappy,

Fourth Clown without love,

Sixth Clown tortured by hate,

Barker & Clowns we will not shed a tear—not one tear.

Fifth Clown If you are on welfare,

First Clown sleeping in the streets,

Fourth Clown locked behind bars,

Barker & Clowns we will not shed a tear—not one tear.

Third Clown If you are paranoid,

Second Clown schizophrenic,

Fourth Clown manic-depressive,

Sixth Clown obsessive-compulsive,

First Clown or just plain crazy,

Barker & Clowns our hearts will cry out for you,

Female Clowns we love you,

Barker & Clowns but, no, we will not shed a tear—not one tear.

Fifth Clown If you have a drinking problem,

Sixth Clown or you’re spaced-out on drugs,

Fourth Clown with morbid thoughts of suicide,

Barker & Clowns we will live in fear for you,

Female Clowns we will pray for you,

Barker & Clowns but, no, we will not shed a tear—not one tear.

First Clown If you are mugged,

Fourth Clown severely beaten,

Third Clown raped,

Female Clowns we will cringe, we will be angry, we will suffer with you,

Barker & Clowns but, no, we will not shed a tear—not one tear.

Third Clown If you are sick,

Fifth Clown terminally ill,

Sixth Clown gasping for your last breath,

Barker & Clowns we will not shed one tear of pity—not one single tear.

Lights go up.

But if you try to save Me,

First Clown save Me,

Fourth Clown save Yourself,

Second Clown save God,

Barker & Clowns we will cry tears of happiness.


Third Clown Glory to all who try.

Barker & Clowns Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Fourth Clown Sing to the stars all night.

Barker & Clowns Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

First Clown Celebrate with all in sight.

Barker & Clowns Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Barker & Male Clowns Dance, dance, dance with the spirit of God.

Female Clowns Hallelujah!

Barker & Clowns Be happy!

Female Clowns Hallelujah!

Barker & Clowns And bless all the good people. Give thanks. Give praise. Bless all the good people who give a helping hand. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Halelu-halelu-halelu-u-u-u-u-jah! Hal-le-lu-jah! Hal-le-lu-jah!

Explosion. A flash of red light. Barker and

Clowns—except Fifth who moves offstage— collapse onto floor. Earth tone lights. The Lord moves onstage, makes a motion, awakening the Barker.

Barker My most compassionate, Lord God.

The Lord My most foolish, lost in grandiose fantasies, Archangel.

Barker It was impossible for me to bear the thought of you suffering.

The Lord Did the thought enter your consciousness that your defiance of my wishes would weigh heavily on my already insurmountable suffering? Your love has gone beyond the boundaries of good common sense.


pointing to Clowns.

Are they dead, Lord?

The Lord They are in a deep sleep. They have no desire or motivation to wake up on their own.

Barker What happened?

The Lord There was a sudden release of far too many negative emotions vibrating in an already toxic atmosphere.

Barker What is going to happen to them?

The Lord They will slowly waste away in dreams.

Barker Is there something you can do?

The Lord I no longer have the desire to communicate my genuine feelings of love for any human being on this crazy, immoral, polluted planet. We are going back home.

Barker I sincerely wish to remain here on Earth.

The Lord There is nothing you can do. They are all sleeping soundly in their dreams.

Barker I’m compelled by my love for you, and by all that you love, to express the sincere feelings of my heart. I choose to remain here for as long as it takes to wake up one human being who will become conscious of your suffering.

The Lord What shall it profit an archangel if he should wake up the whole world and they shall turn on him for disturbing their sleep?

moves upstage, stops

I am going to send you, and your clowns, to a planet called Place, far beyond this galaxy. There, you will be free, without all the distractions you have here on Earth, to wake up your one human being … no, three human beings—The Dancing Siamese Triplets.

Barker But, Lord, they are one; they are attached to each other.

The Lord They will-be-separated into their individual thinking, feeling and doing personalities. They will become a black Preacher, a Jewish Princess, and … a Macho Man.


Yes, a Macho Man.

Barker But, Lord …

The Lord Do you or do you not have the impulse to save me?

Barker But, but Lord, three different personalities?

The Lord Yes, three, and if you should reunite them again as The Dancing Siamese Triplets, you will have achieved your aim of waking up your one human being. Good luck, and may the spirit of Don Quixote be with you.

moves upstage, singing

“To dream the impossible dream.”

turns around

And the other clowns will be there to help you.

The Lord makes a sweeping motion with hand.

Blackout. Typing is heard. Earth tone lights. Author, wearing a T-shirt, is at typewriter. I’s

are standing behind him


reading from script

Scene three! On the planet Place.

Third I Here we go again, another scene.

Second I I’m not sure I can take anymore of this thinking and typing.

First I What would happen if we went on strike?

Third I Forget about it, he would overpower us with his deadly determination.

Second I I thought he did a good job of acting as the Barker.

Third I Maybe we can convince him to become an actor.

Second I And abandon his dream of saving God? There

is no chance in hell of that ever happening.

Author moves offstage, followed by I’s.


reading from script

The Lord moves onstage, upstage center.

Second I Thank God, he never gave up hairdressing; we would be starving by now.

Third I And begging in the streets.


Please, please, help a starving artist who is cruel and inhumane to the I’s of his personality.

Second I


We beg you, please—send us to a homeless shelter where there are no typewriters.

They exit, laughing. Space travel music. Harsh white lights. The Lord moves onstage, upstage center. Princess lies face down, arms extended in front of her. Preacher is in a kneeling position of praying. Macho Man is in a kneeling position with arms extended in front of him. They are wearing their clown-costume tops. Author appears as the Barker wearing his tuxedo jacket, and places a lighter and a cigarette downstage center, and a beer can upstage right.

Barker will observe and silently react to the interactions of Princess, Preacher and Macho Man, and will be visible to them only in the dream scenes. Barker wakes Princess.

Princess Help! Help! I’m drowning in my tears! Help! Help!

Coughs - frightened


relieved to see Preacher


runs to Preacher

Could you please help me? I’m lost. Where are we?

Preacher I bow down before Thee, unworthy of Thy love. I confess to having evil thoughts and beg for your forgive-ness. Oh heavenly Father, I pray …



Wake up! You’re dreaming!

Preacher Oh, my head.

Princess Where are we?

Preacher Is it Sunday? I usually preach on Sunday.

notices Macho Man

Who is that over there?

Princess I have no idea. He looks like he’s dead and rigor mortis has set in.

Preacher He’s praying. … Sir, could you tell us … are you alive?

Macho Man moves back and forth, breathing heavily, and howling like an animal.

Princess That is no prayer!


putting hand on Macho Man’s head




Wake up! You’re dreaming!

Macho man jumps up making weird sounds,

takes a karate stance as Princess screams

and Preacher backs away.

Macho Man One move and I’ll chop your head off into

a bowling ball.

Preacher I was only trying to determine if you were alive.

Macho Man Do I look like I’m dead?

Preacher Oh, no, no … no, no.

Macho Man Where am I? Hey, you two are dressed like clowns.

Princess So are you.

Macho Man What is this, a circus? Where in the hell are we?

They move in different directions, looking for a way out. Macho Man sees the lighter and cigarette.

Hey, what do we have here?

Princess and Preacher run to see.



A lighter and a cigarette.

Princess and Preacher continue looking for a

way out.

Macho Man

facing audience as he tries to get lighter to work

Holy shit! There’s nothing out there.

Princess I hope you don’t think I’m going to take you seriously.

moves downstage

Oh, there must be some explanation.

Macho Man I’m going to suck up some nicotine.

moves upstage, sits, tries to get lighter to work.

Princess This must be a dream, or some kind of hallucination.

Spotlight on Preacher. Dream: Can-can music. Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Clowns, wearing white masks, tinseled wigs, arms around each other, hips touching, kick six times. End of dream.

Preacher I was one of three in a chorus line.

Princess Yes, I remember: I was singing and dancing.

Macho Man Yeah, so what happened?

Preacher There was an explosion.

Princess I have no idea what’s going on here, but I’m going home.

looking for a way out

My mother will worry herself sick—and my husband, and the children. Oh God, this is terrible!


I’m going to cry.

Preacher We must have faith in God and his infinite love and mercy. Jesus said …

Princess Please, I’m Jewish.

Preacher “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

Princess I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.

Preacher “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.

Princess moves away.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.”

Macho Man Oh, if he could only restoreth this lighter.

sees can of beer

I do believe the Lord has restoreth my faith.

throws lighter and cigarette offstage, picks up

can of beer

Hey, this can of beer is empty.

crushing can

Some fuckin’ shithead is playing games.

throws can offstage, lies down on his back—


sits up with an expression of bewilderment, puts

hand to heart

Where’s the sun?


not looking up

It’s behind the clouds.


looking up

The sky is empty.

Macho Man Empty as a can of beer and a lighter that doesn’t work.

Princess What is that supposed to mean?

Macho Man Well, get this—there is nothing here, and there is nothing out there. We are dead clowns.

Princess Really?

Macho Man Check out your heartbeat. … Go ahead, Preacher, check out your heartbeat.


placing hand on heart

I don’t feel anything.


placing hand on heart

Oh, no.

Preacher May God have mercy on my soul.

Macho Man I always knew I was going to do time in Hell.

Princess I’m too young to die.

Macho Man Apparently, Miss Jewish Princess, you miscalculated.

Preacher Why are we the only ones here?

Macho Man God must think we deserve each other.



Oh heavenly Father, I pray you will lift my soul into your kingdom. I confess to having evil thoughts, and pray …

Macho Man Get real, Preacher, you’re blowing farts up

a clogged smokestack.



I believe in God.

Macho Man

sexually interested

What about you, Princess, do you believe in God?

Preacher God reigns in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Macho Man Do you mind? I was asking her. … Speak up, Princess, don’t be shy.


Preacher Let me share this with you. When I was

young, I had no concept of God. My life was empty. I felt

inadequate, unworthy, and lonely. My mother dragged me to a revival meeting. I remember thinking how all this preaching about God and Jesus was ridiculous when I heard: Confess your sins and take Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. I rose, compelled by a power that was not my own, and shrieked: I am a sinner, I have evil thoughts, I don’t believe in God. I collapsed down on my knees, crying out for Jesus to save me. A feeling of love lifted my spirits to the glory of God.

Princess Religion in my family was going to Temple on the High Holy Days. I would like to think that there is a God.

Macho Man Religion is the biggest con game going—pile your dollars in the collection plate, and when you’re six feet under, you can hang out with God.

Preacher Religion is praying to God for guidance.

Macho Man Religion is for cuckoo birds.

Preacher God is love.

Princess I wonder what my husband is doing.

Macho Man If you’re asking me, I would think he would be hard-up and looking for a little action.


burst of anger

How can you be so insensitive to the feelings of another human being!

Macho Man I do believe the Princess is upset. Did I hit upon a husband who gets a little nooky on the side?


Princess How did I get here? What horrible sin am I guilty of?

Preacher Jesus …

Princess Preacher, I’m Jewish, our sins are different. … My husband is the one who should be here.


to himself

Why am I here?

Princess He was obsessed with making money. It was all so stupid. We had everything money could buy: a big house, fancy cars, a place in the Hamptons.

Preacher I lived my life as a Christian. I was charitable.

I loved my neighbor.

Princess He was a manic-depressive. If the Stock Market was up, he was all excited and happy. If it was down, the world was coming-to-an-end.

Preacher I preached whosoever believeth in Jesus shall not perish, but have everlasting life. I believed. I had faith.

Princess Money, power, and fast cars gave him the illusion of being happy.

Preacher I prayed to be worthy of God’s love.

Princess He had so much talent. He could have been …

Preacher Why do I feel empty and all alone?

Princess It makes me sick to think about it.

Macho Man Come on! Come on! Why is everyone down in the dumps? … Let’s have a party.


… Come on, Preacher, show me your Bojangles. … How about you, Princess?


Hava nagilah. … Hey, Princess, how about you and me …

gyrates hips

No? Then I’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.

moves upstage, back to audience, pretending to masturbate with his right hand

Uh, oh, ah, uh, oh boy, uh, ah, ah—switching.

changes hands, raising right hand

Oh, uh, ah, ah, I’m hot, I’m hot, I’m coming, I’m …



Stop that!

Macho Man jumps up into a karate stance,
making weird sounds.

Macho Man


Karate is the big macho thing to do. … I know what is missing in this party. It’s something wild, something kinky … Charades.


Okay. Three women want to enter Paradise. Before you can enter Paradise, said St. Peter, I want to know if you were faithful. The first said she never cheated on her husband. Never? said St. Peter. Never! said the woman. St. Peter turned to his right-hand man—she can enter Paradise, give her the gold key. The second said she cheated on her husband only once and felt terribly guilty. St. Peter turned to his right-hand man—she can enter Paradise, give her the silver key. The third said she cheated on her husband all the time and never felt guilty. St. Peter turned to his right-hand man—she can enter Paradise, give her the key to my room.


to Preacher

Give her the key to MY room. Get it? It’s a religious joke!


kneeling, looking up

O heavenly Father, the next time team me up with a pair of hookers from a massage parlor.



to Macho Man

Was there ever a time when you felt good about yourself? When your life was exciting?

Macho Man Yeah …once… only it was a long time ago.

Preacher I would like to hear about it.

Macho Man It was before I got into construction work. I was a carpenter and a damn good one. I loved working with wood.


raises arms, moves downstage

I’m going to interrupt here for a moment. … When I was in the Gurdjieff Work, they assigned me to the woodworking team. I was asked to cut a piece of wood in half. I cut the piece of wood, but it was uneven. I was told to try again. And again, it came out uneven. I complained that I was unable to saw a straight line. I was told to try again, and this time to sense my body and pay attention to what I was doing. By sensing my body, I observed that I was tense, and that I was trying to force the saw to cut a straight line. … Okay, let’s go back to: “I loved working with wood.”

moves back upstage.

Macho Man I felt like I was a big shot, like I was the Michael Jordan of carpenters. I could slam dunk with the best of them.

Preacher You were very fortunate to have found some-thing that gave meaning to your life.

Macho Man I screwed up.

Preacher May I ask how?

Macho Man I got myself a don’t work too hard, take a coffee break, ass-kissing job. It was boring, but the money was good.

Preacher I have this feeling that I never really lived, that I had lived my whole life in a dream, pretending to be someone I wasn’t—except for that fleeting moment when I was born-again; believing in Jesus, believing he died for my sins, believing in God’s love. No matter how much I prayed, no matter how I tried, I never experienced that feeling of love again. … When I was back there in life, I could have searched for God.

places hand on heart

I can feel my heart. … I’m alive! … I’m alive!


Oh heavenly Father, I bow down before Thee, unworthy

of your love. I confess to having had my doubts and beg for your forgiveness. … It stopped. My heart stopped. Oh heavenly Father, don’t forsake me. I’ll never wander from your path again. I confess, I confess I do have evil lustful thoughts. Oh heavenly Father, forgive me for my sins.


I confess! … I confess!


moves to Preacher

Don’t be so hard on yourself. You had some kind of religious …


pushing Princess away

Christ-hater! Jew!

Macho Man Hey, she was only trying to help.


charges over to Macho Man

You poisoned my mind with your vulgar blasphemy. You caused me to doubt and lose my faith.

swings wildly at Macho Man, falling down - sobbing

You’re a vulgar pervert, a womanizer! I hate you!


holding Preacher in her arms

It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. You have your faith. You believe in God.

Preacher suddenly, passionately kisses Princes -rolls over on stomach, sobbing.

Preacher I am a sinner! I’m evil!

Spotlight on Princess. Dream scene. Sixth Clown, kneeling, arms tightly crossed, blindfolded, and crying.

Princess Pictures of my life are flashing through my mind. There is a little girl crying. I am drowning in her tears.

Barker, Fourth & Fifth Clowns


If you are lonely, unhappy, drowning in your tears; we

will never shed one tear of pity—not one single tear.

Sixth Clown There, on the mountain peak was a beautiful, perfectly shaped, artificial flower; and a gravestone: “Here lie the remains of a beautiful woman who never took the time to look into a mirror beyond her reflection.”

Fifth Clown, wearing a saffron colored

turban, sitting in a lotus position, eyes


Fifth Clown Ohm. Ohm.

Princess closes her eyes.

Barker There is a place within you that is calm and peaceful, and all knowing.


Princess There is stillness. And there is me—only me.

Foxtrot music is heard, featuring a clarinet solo.

Sweetheart, honey, is that you?

runs to Barker

Oh, forgive me, I, I thought you were my husband.

Barker Do you love your husband?

Princess Yes, I love my husband. Who are you?

Barker I’m an archangel?

Princess You look more like a ringmaster in a circus. Where are we?

Barker On the planet Place.

Princess I thought I was in Hell. I didn’t know what to think. It’s all so confusing. I feel like I’m sleepwalking in

a dream. Why am I here?

Barker You lived your life without ever knowing happiness.

Princess That is not true. I loved my husband. I loved my family. I had friends. I had everything. My husband loved me.

Barker Would you like to dance?

Princess I’m not exactly in the mood.

Barker Dancing is a wonderful way for two people to

get to know each other.

Barker takes her in his arms. They dance.

Princess … When I was little, I dreamed that a handsome prince would come galloping on a white horse, sweep me up in his arms, and off we would go to his beautiful castle that reached as high as the stars—and we would live happily ever after. … My husband came galloping into my life playing the clarinet.

They stop dancing.

The only time I ever saw him happy was when he was playing in a jazz band in college. He was so handsome.

I would sit there—imagining that I was dancing in his arms, and crying. He came over to me and asked if there was something wrong. I said: “No, I just love the way you play.”

They dance.

If I could go back and live my life over again! Oh, what’s the use of having regrets. It’s all over.

Barker If you could go back, what would you do?

Princess I would tell my husband that he betrayed a

little boy who loved music.

They stop dancing.

If I could go back, I would encourage him.

They dance, then stop.

Oh my God. I see it so clearly now: I was dishonest. I was afraid to express my real feelings. I was afraid if he went back to playing the clarinet to be a jazz musician, I would have to give up living the good life. I had everything.


I love him, I really do. I miss him so much.

Barker takes her in his arms. They dance, then

Barker You now have the knowledge to go back and live your life again in the real world, but only if the Preacher and Macho Man go with you. Good luck, and may the spirit of God be with you.

Barker moves away. A heartbeat is heard. Sky blue lights.



Oh my God! Oh my God!

Can-can music. Sixth Clown, wearing a white mask, arms extended as if she had them around someone on each side. Fifth Clown, wearing a white mask, is on his knees, praying; Fourth Clown, wearing a white mask, is on his knees, arms extended, moving back and forth.

Fifth Clown

Oh heavenly Father, I confess

to having evil thoughts and

beg for your forgiveness.

Fourth Clown

Uh , oh, ah, ah, oh, ah,

oh boy, uh, oh, ah, ah.

Oh, I’m hot, I’m hot.

End of dream.


Standing - to Princess

I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I, I feel embarrassed and ashamed. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

Macho Man The Devil made you do it.


Princess You had a real moment of being alive. You expressed your longing, your passion for sex.

Preacher No! I am a sinner. I have evil thoughts.



Yes, you ARE a sinner; and yes, you do have evil thoughts; and yes, you hate anyone who doesn’t believe or think like you. And you’re a word scavenger—scrounging up hand-me-down, creaky old words that have no meaning, no personal history! Get real! Wake up! You’re a grave digger of words, a thief, and a con artist!

Macho Man Hey, lighten up. He said he was sorry.


screaming at Macho Man

He doesn’t understand his own words! So how can he be sorry?

in Preacher’s face

You block out your depressing thoughts with your God loves me, Jesus died for my sins, phony religious superiority.


Wake up! You’re sleepwalking in a dream.

Macho Man Hey, Princess, you’re no saint. Why are you here?

Princess That’s right, Big-shot-Macho-Man, I’m a sinner just like the Preacher. My life with my husband was a lie. I betrayed a little girl who believed in true love.


I’m so sorry. … I want to go home. I want to go home to my husband and my children.

Macho Man Hey, Princess, calm down. There’s nothing you can do. It’s too late now.

Princess places Preacher’s hand on her heart.

Preacher Her heart, I can feel it, she’s alive.

Macho Man


Let me have a feel, too.

Princess directs Macho Man’s hand to her wrist pulse.

Hey, that’s not fair. … Your pulse is going. What charged up your motor?

Princess I’m in love with a little girl, and God.

Macho Man And I’m in love with a gay truck driver.

moving away

This is all bullshit.


to Princess

I can well understand your anger at my strange behavior. I’m at a loss to explain what happened. I have no ill feelings toward you or your religion. We are all children

of God.

Princess You have a choice, preacher man; you can come back with me, or stay here forever preaching the same old hand-me-downs.

Preacher I preach the living truth, the word of God.

Princess You preach nonsense.

Preacher I believe. I have faith.

Princess Prove it! Get down on your knees and pray. Pray to feel God’s love pulsating within your heart. Pray for life. Pray for a blue sky of immortality.

Macho Man

raising arms and mimicking a Southern dialect

I believes! I believes!

Princess holds up her hand to silence Macho




Oh heavenly Father, I pray you will forgive me my sins so that I may return to life and live in the glory of your love.

placing his hand on his heart.

… I don’t feel anything.

Princess You have to get in touch with what is real in you.

Preacher Help me. Please.

Princess Close your eyes.


Close your eyes.

Preacher closes his eyes. Pause.

Princess There’s a place within you that is calm and peaceful, and all knowing.

Preacher I want to know God. I want to be worthy of his love.

Princess First you have to let go of your belief in God.

Preacher Jesus said …

Princess Let go of Jesus. Let go of everything you believe in. … Be honest right here. Now.

Preacher I …

Princess Yes?

Preacher I …

Princess Don’t be afraid.

Preacher My mind, it’s going to explode.

Princess You can do it. You can be free. You can know God.



I don’t believe in God! I was frightened. I was lonely. sobbing

Sweet Jesus, save me! Save me!

Spotlight on Preacher. Dream scene. Lights

come up on Fifth Clown, wearing a crown, padded muscles, and holding a globe of the world in

palm of his right hand.

Preacher I’m praying at the foot of a mountain. On top of the mountain is a clown, holding a globe of the world in the palm of his right hand.

Fifth Clown I am not perfect. I make mistakes. Fear is

my companion. If you try to save me, I will do whatever I can to help you.

Barker, Fourth & Sixth Clowns


Glory to all who try! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Fifth Clown It is my wish that you live in freedom and be one with me.

Barker, Fourth & Sixth Clowns Hallelujah! Hallelujah!


slow and deliberate

If the Kingdom of Heaven is within you … where is God?

Fourth and Sixth Clowns, wearing “sikke” hats and a white sash around their waist, whirl to Sufi music. Barker takes Preacher by the hand to join in whirling.

Sixth Clown The Soul.

Fourth Clown The Real Self.

Barker The Real Me.

Fourth Clown The Creator.

Sixth Clown The Almighty.

Preacher I tremble with the knowledge that God, the Real Me, lives in my Soul.

A heartbeat is heard. Sky blue lights. Barker, Fourth and Sixth Clowns, cross their arms and bow to Preacher, then move away.


Oh heavenly Father, I bow down before Thee, humble in the light of your love and grace. I pray …

Can-can music. Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Clowns, wearing white masks, their arms around each other. Fifth Clown, in center, wearing a crown and padded muscles is being pulled in opposite directions.

Fifth Clown

on third and fourth kick

Help! Help! Will someone please save me!

End of dream.


raises arms, moves downstage

Once again, I feel the need to interrupt the continuity of this play. … There are times when I wish I had never had my religious experience, and never read The Saviors of God. I get discouraged and want to shut down my thinking and throw my script down the garbage chute. I have quit many times, convincing myself I have done my best, but when I read or hear about any violence, when I feel the sadness, the misery, and poverty of the world, I plunge back again into my writing. Writing is my salvation, my religion, my vision of saving God. … Okay, let’s pick it up after the end of the Preacher’s dream.

moves back upstage.


standing, looking straight ahead

Dear God, I pray for the knowledge,

left forefinger to left temple

and wisdom,

right hand on heart

to be conscious of your cry for help.

Princess runs to hug Preacher.

Macho Man Great, now we’ve got a born-again Christian- Jew!

Princess Are you ready to go back to the real world?

kisses Preacher on cheek

My brave and courageous Preacher.

Macho Man Hey, we’re all in this together, you have to include me.

Princess You’re still in the body of a dead clown.

Macho Man Who gives a shit? I’m going, too.


placing hand on Macho Man’s heart

No sign of life, you’re not ready.

Macho Man There’s no way in hell I’m going to stay here by myself.

Princess Close your eyes.

Macho Man I’ll close my eyes, Princess, if you promise to give me a big juicy kiss.

Princess Listen smart-ass, you can come back with us, or stay here by yourself, playing with yourself, in your own bullshit!

Macho Man Fuck off, Princess, I don’t believe in God and all this psychological crap!

Preacher You must come with us. Please. Close your eyes.

Macho Man

closing eyes

This is ridiculous.

Preacher Let go of everything that is false. Be honest. Right here. Now. … There’s a place within you …

Macho Man Fuck this shit.

Macho Man moves away, lies down. Spotlight on Macho Man. Dream scene. Sounds of spectators at a basketball game. Fourth Clown, wearing a red cape with a hood, a Wolf puppet on right hand, a Lamb puppet on left, moves onstage.

Macho Man I’m watching a basketball game on TV. A cheerleader leaps into the air shouting: “We’re number one.”

Fourth Clown


Baa, baa.

Macho Man We’re number one.

Fourth Clown


Baa, baa.

Macho Man There’s a guy with a carpenter’s apron stuffed with crushed beer cans and cigarette butts, and howling like a crazy animal.

Fourth Clown Owoo, owoo.

Macho Man He’s wrestling down the cheerleader and is fucking her. The spectators are going wild with excitement.

The Wolf is humping the Lamb as the sound

of the spectators going wild with excitement

is heard.

Fourth Clown


Owoo, owoo, owoo.

Barker Ladies and Gentlemen: may I have your attention, please!—The Dancing Siamese Cheerleaders!

Can-can music. Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Clowns,

wearing white masks, arms around each other, hips touching, kick in unison.

Fourth, Fifth & Sixth Clowns If you devour the lamb, you will live in solitary confinement for the rest of your days in the dark dungeon of your soul.

End of dream.

Macho Man


Go ahead and leave me. Get out of here!

Preacher We won’t leave without you.

Princess We can’t.

Pause. Preacher whispers to Princess. She nods, yes.


singing “La Cucaracha” and dancing

La CucaMachoman, La CucaMachoman, La CucaMacho, Macho man. If big tits don’t do the trick, then maybe you would like to suck my you know what. Ole!

Macho Man

grabs Preacher by costume, fist raised

How would you like to suck my fist, you black faggot!



No! Stop! He was trying to shock you out of your macho personality.

Spotlight on Macho Man. Dream scene. Fourth and Sixth Clowns, wearing white masks, arms raised with space between them, no kicking.

Fourth & Sixth Clowns In solitary confinement. In solitary confinement.

End of dream.



I can understand your anger. I apologize for my outrageous behavior.

Macho Man

releasing Preacher

Forget it. I’m turning into a macho-man-basket-case.

moves away, sits - disturbed

I had this dream about a cheerleader. I felt like a fuckin’ animal. If only I could live my life over again: I would stop with all this macho bullshit, and the screwing around. I would be the best damn carpenter that ever lived.

standing, aware that his heart is beating

Holy shit! My heart is beating. It’s doing somersaults and flips.

runs to hug Princess

I love you, Princess.

Princess And I love you, you pussycat of a macho man.

Macho Man

runs to hug Preacher

And I love you, Preacher. I’m sorry I called you a faggot. I was angry. I was upset.


singing and dancing

“Sticks and stones will break my bones—

Preacher & Macho Man

singing and dancing

but names will never hurt me. Sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me.”

Preacher I was thinking of giving up my Sunday preaching, but I think I’m going to preach again. Not

the same old dreary sermons laced with platitudes—no quoting the Scriptures, no Jesus, not even God loves you.

Macho Man That’s the whole ball of wax right there.



I’m going to preach about love—love of self, love of humanity, love of the planet and all living things. I’m

going to preach about freedom—freedom to think, freedom to search for God. I’m going to preach happiness, not hell and damnation. I’m going to preach about living and being honest. I’m going to preach from my heart, and not from some book or what someone else thinks or believes. I’m going to preach revolution.

raising arm with closed fist

Down with religion!

pumping arm up again

Down with sin!

Macho Man You’ll be preaching to empty pews.

Preacher Then I guess I’ll have to WORK for a living.

They break up laughing.

Princess Are we all ready to go back?

Macho Man You lead, sweetheart, and we’ll follow.

They hold hands, Princess in center, walk down

to edge of stage, and stop.

Macho Man

to Princess

What’s the matter?

Princess I don’t know … I’m afraid I won’t have the courage to be the little girl in me.

Macho Man No one said it was going to be easy.

changes places with Princess

… I’m afraid I’ll go back to another ass-kissing job, howling like a fuckin’ animal.

Preacher I desperately want to go back and preach.

changes places with Macho Man

… I no longer believe in words. … I want to go back and do something to show my gratitude for being born as a human being. To be able to think,

raises hand of Princess

and to feel,

raises hand of Macho Man

and to do.

Barker Go for it—Yes!

They take one step forward. A heartbeat is heard. Sky blue lights. The Lord, wearing a crown and a silver and gold cape, no sunglasses, moves onstage.

The Lord


And bless the Archangel. Give thanks. Give praise. And bless all the clowns who give a helping hand.

Clowns start to kneel, The Lord motions them

to stand.

Barker My most compassionate, Lord God.

The Lord Come, let us do that wonderful hug they do here on the planet Earth.

The Lord and Barker hug.

And my favorite Three.

Preacher, Princess and Macho Man move to The Lord, and kneel. Barker places a white mask and a tinseled wig on each of them.

You are The Dancing Siamese Triplets. Sing, dance, and be happy. And teach someone everything you know about dancing.

Preacher/First Clown, Princess/Second Clown, and Macho Man/Third Clown, arms around each other, hips touching, move downstage, kicking in unison.

First Clown I think.

Second Clown I feel.

First, Second & Third Clowns As one.

First Clown I think.

Second Clown I feel.

First, Second & Third Clowns As one.

Original Music - Singing.

The Lord If I could be someone other than me, like a Broadway Musical Star, singing and dancing in romantic leads, my name in lights on a marquee—taking a curtain call, applause, and shouts of bravo, bravo! Oh, that would be heavenly, but that would not be the real me. Oh, no, I am the Lord, creator of all and everything.

Barker & Clowns Oh, yes, he is the Lord, creator of all and everything.

Barker If I could be someone other than me, like a rock star, a movie star, a barker in a carnival of clowns—I would have to say in all honesty, that would not be the real me. Oh, no, I’m an archangel from a tropical island some-

where in space.

Clowns Yes, he is an archangel from a tropical island somewhere in space.

First, Second & Third Clowns If we could be someone other than me, like the swashbuckling Three Musketeers, the Three Blind Mice, or the Three Peas in a Pod, we would shout as one: We are the Dancing Siamese Triplets.


We sing and dance in harmony.

Fourth & Sixth Clowns If we could be someone other than me, someone famous and rich—a celebrity, we would declare unanimously, that would not be the real me. We are clowns, and we are happy to be in the service of the Lord.

Clowns We are happy to be clowns in the service of the Lord.

The Lord If I could be someone other than me, like a Broadway Musical Star, singing and dancing in romantic leads, my name in lights on a marquee—taking a curtain call, applause, and shouts of Bravo! Bravo! Oh, yes, that would be heavenly.

Barker & Clowns Oh, yes, that would be heavenly.

The Lord But that would not be the real me.

The Lord, Barker & Clowns Oh, no!

The Lord I am the Lord, creator of all and everything. Oh, yes, I am gloriously happy being the Lord. I am gloriously happy being the Lord.

The Lord extends his arms. Barker and Clowns stand alongside The Lord, their arms around each other.

The Lord, Barker & Clowns


We are one with all and everything. We sing and dance in harmony. We are gloriously happy in being Me—gloriously happy in being Me.

Blackout. Applause. Typing is heard. Earth tone lights. Author, wearing gray sweatshirt, glasses, hair turning gray, is typing. I’s are standing behind him.


stops typing

… No, that’s not the right ending.

Third I Here we go again, another scene, and then another and another.

First I We are his little helpers, waiting to march off into the sunset with a fading dream of writing a play to save God.

Second I


“To dream the impossible dream.”

Author Let’s keep it quiet, I’m trying to think of a new ending.

First I We’d better listen, or we’ll end up on the planet Place.


to audience

We have managed to get along through the years. They know I have confidence in their good judgment not to do anything that will sabotage my efforts or deplete my energy from writing my play.

First I

to audience

In our free time, we live the good life.

Author They now have the freedom to do anything they want.

Second I As long as we don’t exploit anyone—

Three I’s for our own personal gain or initiate physical force.

Author Very good.

Third I We’re on our third marriage.

Second I We have a lovely daughter.


moves away from typewriter

My wife and I were s-sleeping downstairs because our b-bedroom was being painted. Our daughter kept waking up and crying—she wanted to sleep d-downstairs with us. I told her, no; she had to sleep in her own bed. After my

wife exhausted herself t-trudging up and down the stairs

a number of times to q-quiet her, I decided to take her out of her crib and let her play with her toys. I had f-finally fallen asleep when I heard: “Daddy! Daddy!” I jumped out of bed to see what had h-happened. My daughter wanted me to see the stuffed animals she had neatly placed on each step down the stairs. I was f-furious at being disturbed again from my sleep. I grabbed her up, bounced her back in her crib, and started throwing her s-stuffed animals in after her. I was yelling and throwing them in; she was crying and throwing them back out. I suddenly stopped. I realized my d-daughter was a fighter—she was defending herself against my unreasonable behavior. I was so proud and happy for her. I carried her downstairs. We hugged and drifted off to sleep with smiles on our faces.

moves back to typewriter.

First I Can we please continue?

Author Yes.

First I We go to the theatre.

Second I Dance at weddings.

Third I Eat in good restaurants.

First I Have vodka on the rocks or a glass of wine.

Third I Tumble in the sheets.

Second I


But no chocolate chip cookies.

Author Not while I’m working.

Second I One cookie, that’s all I want—one cookie,

raising right hand

I swear.

Author No! You’re a chocolate chipaholic. One cookie and you’ll go on a binge.

types, then stops.

Third I I can see us ending up in an old age home: a senile old fart, slumped over a typewriter.

First I

mimes old man typing

Thinking and typing and thinking and typing.

Second and Third I’s laugh.

Second I Do you think he’ll ever finish this play?

Third I Yes … if you believe in reincarnation.

First and Second I’s laugh.

Author Will you guys stop, and let me get on with my writing?

First I Shhh. The boss wants complete silence.


types, then stops

It was back in l962 or 63. I went off to Florida, isolating myself in a motel room to write my play. I thought I was going to finish it in six months.

Three I’s Thirty-five years later.



Anyway, I was having an extremely difficult time writing anything that remotely resembled a coherent sentence when, from out of the blue, words came to me. I looked up and said: “Thank you”, and continued writing. I stopped abruptly, looked up, shook my finger, and shouted: “Don’t you dare tell me what to do!”

First I Was that politically correct?

Second I Maybe it would have been smart to just stop after thank you.

Third I And make our life comfortable and easy?

Author When I realized there was no way in hell I was going to write my play in six months, I returned to work again as a hairdresser. I recently retired. It was time to move on—and do what? I don’t know.

Third I

mimes old man typing

Thinking and typing.

Three I’s And thinking and typing.

Third I And sputtering like an old motor in a beat up jalopy.

makes a sputtering-farting sound.

First and Second I’s join in.



Okay, enough of this fooling around—back to work.

types, moves away from typewriter

It has been difficult, and at times painfully embarrassing,

to reconcile the words “I am G-God” with an insecure, struggling-against-every-fear-imaginable hairdresser who has a speech p-problem. Why did I say—or to be more accurate: why did I blurt out “I am G-God” those many years ago when I was in th-therapy? In the words of the great Caruso—the h-hairdresser: “It’s not important.”

moving back to typewriter

I am grateful to everyone who has encouraged me in my search for happiness.

sitting at typewriter

My happiness,

motions with hand to I’s

our happiness, is knowing—that by writing my play, I saved what is good and decent in me.

Author continues typing.

A heartbeat is heard.

Sky blue lights.

Slow fade.