The Day The Music Died (8.2.12)

Prompt: Come up with a new holiday. Explain why and how it should be celebrated.

This is not by any stretch of the imagination my best work. In fact it's a bit transient and moralistic. However, I was really feeling the song "American Pie" and wanted to write about what would happen the day the music died and how I could turn it into a holiday. I wrote it at 4:40 in the morning so cut me some slack.

#2: THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED

A jukebox play

(Lights up on the KING and QUEEN, the JESTER, the GOOD OL BOYS DRINKING WHISKEY AND RYE, LENIN and MARX in a bar. The FATHER, SON and HOLY GHOST are all sitting at another table in the corner, quietly drinking. When the lights rise, the KING, QUEEN, the GOOD OL BOYS DRINKING WHISKEY AND RYE, LENIN and MARX are all clapping)

KING: Cmon Jester, sing some more for us. You got such a beautiful voice.

JESTER: No no no. I’m done for the night. I ain’t no Don McLean over here, my pipes are shot far as I’m concerned.

QUEEN: But you always sound so good when you sing, it makes me happy for a little while. And that coat—where ever did you get it?

JESTER: Borrowed it from an old friend.

GOOD OL BOY #1: Oh yeah? Whose that?

JESTER: James Dean!

GOOD OL BOY #2: I remember how that music used to make me smile.

GOOD OL BOY #1: I’ll drink to that!

(They all drink. Enter the WIDOWED BRIDE)

WIDOWED BRIDE: Hey guys.

LENIN: Someone’s lookin down.

MARX: And why the fuck are you wearing a bridal gown?

WIDOWED BRIDE: I was just about to get married to my fiancé but then he got shot and died. Now I’m nothing. I’m just a widowed bride.

GOOD OL BOY #1: I’ll drink to that!

(They all drink)

KING: Alright, we better get going…

QUEEN: Why?

KING: Lets go honey, I’m a little too drunk.

QUEEN: You’re such a snoozer.

KING: Do you wanna know the real reason why?

QUEEN: Why?

KING: Because I know that you’re in love with him.

GOOD OL BOY #2: Ooh, with who?

KING: (to the Queen) The jester! I saw you two dancing in the gym! You both kicked up your shoes!

LENIN: I could dig some rhythmic blues.

GOOD OL BOY #1: I’ll drink to that!

(They all drink)

MARX: (to Queen) Honestly your majesty, as far as I’m concerned love is all a sham.

LENIN: What a pseudo intellect. Did you write the book of love?

MARX: Nope. Do you believe in God above?

LENIN: Hell no!

WIDOWED BRIDE: Who does anymore?

GOOD OL BOY #2: I’ll drink to that.

(Enter the TRAIN CONDUCTOR)

TRAIN CONDUCTOR: All aboard! Last train on the coast leaves in five minutes!

(He exits. FATHER, SON and HOLY GHOST all get up, all carrying suitcases)

FATHER: Ah fuck. We gotta go.

WIDOWED BRIDE: Why you guys leavin so soon?

SON: Today’s the last day there’s gonna be music. It’s all gonna die tomorrow.

JESTER: Are you serious?

HOLY GHOST: Yup. So, we’re bouncing.

QUEEN: Take me with you! I don’t think I could stand a world without music.

KING: Honey, we’re not packed. We don’t even have our tickets.

FATHER: We’ll see you guys on the flip side.

(FATHER, SON and HOLY GHOST exit)

WIDOWED BRIDE: Holy crap, I can’t believe music is gonna die. If I lose one more thing today, I swear I’m going to kill myself.

JESTER: Don’t kill yourself, celebrate.

WIDOWED BRIDE: Why? I have no reason to celebrate. I’ve lost my husband…and now I’m losing music! What point could there be to living?

JESTER: Let’s celebrate because even though music is dying and will be replaced by something…like…video. Soon there won’t even need to be radio stars.

KING: He’s right. Life is cyclical.

WIDOWED BRIDE: But what’s the point if life is cyclical? There’s no sense of permanence!

QUEEN: She’s right. Nothing is ever too permanent. Everything’s fleeting. Even love.

LENIN: But out of death, life comes again. After the sun sets on one day, another one rises and because of that no two days are exactly the same. Each day is special. Each day is in its own right, its own special holiday.

GOOD OL BOY #2: I’ll drink to that.

(They all drink to that. “American Pie” by Don McLean plays. Lights fade)