So here we are.
In honor of the upcoming Tony Awards, I was planning on making this post into a Broadway musical, but since there aren’t more than 500 of you out there*, this will have to be more of an Off-Off Broadway musical. It’s a brief show, but there’s no intermission, and our tiny theatre only has a couple of bathroom stalls, so plan accordingly. Also, please silence all electronic devices at this time.
If there was a curtain in the theatre, it would rise (most Off-Off spaces don’t have one). A chorus enters and begins to sing:
When it’s time to gripe or bitch
Or shamelessly plug and boast
When it’s time to overshare your feelings or babies
Then it’s time for you to post...
ON YOUR BLOG - it’s a place where you can type and talk
ON YOUR BLOG - it’s a place where all the creeps can stalk
ON YOUR BLOG - you’re a pro on things from film to caulk
ON... YOUR... BLOG!
(Blogger enters and sings.)
I am one of millions, and one of a kind
I don’t know a thing except what’s on my mind
I am semi-hilarious and hard to find
But I’ll give you a respite from your daily grind
ON MY BLOG - I figured what the hell I’ve got the time
ON MY BLOG - Marcel Marceau was my favorite mime
ON MY BLOG - my winking writing’s like a twist of lime
I... HAVE... A... BLO--OG!!
(key change on the second syllable of “blo-og,” and everyone joins in.)
BLOGGER AND CHORUS:
ON HER BLOG - it’s like a diary of zeros and ones
ON HER BLOG - for some it’s serious and some just funs
ON HER BLOG - the pen is mighty, welcome to her guns
ON HER BLOOOG
ON HER BLOOOG
ON A BLOOOOOOOOOOG!
(The chorus exits and the Blogger is left alone with her laptop.)
BLOGGER: Oh, blog. We’ve been together for so long. I love you, blog!
(Her laptop is suddenly bathed in light.)
BLOG: (a deep voice from nowhere) I know.
BLOGGER: Blog! I didn’t know you could talk! I thought only I could give you your voice.
BLOG: Well, I seem to have a life of my own now.
BLOGGER: Wow! I can’t wait to hear what you have to tell me!
BLOG: Well, I do feel a song coming on...
I was nothing before you
And I’m not much more now
But along the way, I found my voice
By the sweat of your brow
And I know that you are part of me
And that I was born from you
But I have to let it out now
It’s what I’ve got to do
I’m sorry, I don’t understand
What I’m supposed to be
Am I just some fields of Arial
Am I you, or am I me?
I’m sorry, but I can’t believe
I’m not meant to make a dime
Without a firm commercial goal
I’m just... a... waste... of... time.
BLOGGER: But... blog! You’re not a waste of time. You’re entertaining dozens of people! Sometimes twice that!
BLOG: I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore.
(The light on her laptop goes dim, and the Blogger sings in a spotlight.)
I could have done it all another way
I could have made my blog a whore
Replete with links and Google ads
Now you claim to be a bore
As I come to the inevitable part of this song...
I have to ask... how do you write a wrong?
(Andy Rooney enters.)
ANDY ROONEY: Did you ever notice how you need to have a celebrity appearance to get any attention from the New York theatre community?
BLOGGER: Andy Rooney! What are you doing here?
ANDY ROONEY: I’m here to save you from your distress. I’m here to tell you that your blog isn’t boring. Sometimes a fella just has to muse about all kinds of crap. Why, I’ve made a fine living musing about all kinds of crap for several decades now! Like why soap is so slippery! And how could I have lost so many pairs of glasses in my lifetime?
BLOGGER: Are you going to sing about it, Andy Rooney?
ANDY ROONEY: Weeellll, it’s really more of a patter song:
Yessir, I’ve done a lot of living
And I still don’t understand
Why computers are so popular
And fit into my hand
And I’ll never really comprehend
The reason why you tweet
Or why the hell a vegan
Doesn’t just go have some meat
But it doesn’t matter what I think
It’s only that I do
‘Cause it’s funny when the old guy
Doesn’t seem to have a clue
And I know the youngsters laugh at me
Or don’t get my routine
When I gripe about society
And all the crap I’ve seen
But honey, I’ll outlive them all
No matter when I die
My words will carry on and on
My time is up now, bye!
(Andy Rooney exits.)
BLOGGER: (calling after him) But, Andy Rooney! You didn’t really help me!
(The light comes up on the laptop again.)
BLOG: Oh, but he helped me.
BLOGGER: Blog! You’ve come back!
BLOG: Yes, I have. Andy Rooney taught me a valuable lesson. Sometimes you just have to exist for no good reason at all.
BLOGGER: Oh, blog. I don’t think that’s what he actually said.
BLOG: Well, I wasn’t really listening. Or I didn’t understand. But that’s not important right now. I’m back, and I’m never going away again, no matter how mundane or unpopular I am.
BLOGGER: You know that’s not what matters, right blog?
BLOG: I know now.
Some blogs have shiny hair
And some are dressed real swell
Some are artfully designed
And some just look like hell
But I’m yours
You are mine
And what’s more
You’re just fine
BLOG AND BLOGGER:
‘Cause we belong together
We are average together
It’s not silk, but rather pleather
Still we’ll stick it out forever
Yeah, we’re what we are together
What that is, we might know never
It’s solid and all-weather
And a casual endeavor
LIGHTS. CURTAIN. THE END.
If I see this in a Fringe show someday I’m gonna be steamed. But I think I’m probably safe.
Yes indeed. Welcome to me.
*you did know that Broadway houses have more than 500 seats, right? And Off-Broadway has between 100 and 499? And Off-Off has fewer than 99? Cue the flying peacock logo and some The More You Know music. You’re welcome.