Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Book Review

the dog who healed a family / and other true animal stories that warm the heart & touch the soul / by Jo Coudert    Harlequin   2010     182 pp.

This is a collection of eighteen delightful short stories about animals and how they love and change human lives for the better. It has always been a medical fact that if a senior citizen with high blood pressure adopts a dog as a pet, his blood pressure will be reduced significantly, as the constant attention given to the dog creates a calm and soothing aura that is pure, healthy and happy.
Jo Coudert has a very laid back and genuine style of writing. Her characters are real, as is the dialogue they speak. Their dilemmas are as accessible as our own. We’ve either been there ourselves or know family or friends who’ve had similar experiences.

In the story about the family who adopts three new children, who just cannot find happiness as readily as the family members would wish, it is a dog Shaneen, also adopted by the family and reluctant to get too close, that somehow not only connects to the new siblings but is responsible for them becoming closer and happier with their newfound family. A simple game of tug of war with a blanket brings a new smile where there was none and much inner peace.

My favorite is the story about the pig. Pigger, formerly known as Lord Bacon, it is pointed out, is cleaner and friendlier than most dogs. He imitates and learns faster, also performing more tricks than most canines. What his short visit brings to the mother, who has lost the ability to enjoy life, is truly amazing. She now has a “red rash of affection” from the pig’s large snout rubbing against her inner thigh. And when she shares his love with seniors and others, Pigger works miracles.

The pets in these stories include not only dogs and a pig, but also a duck, a deer, an owl, a swan, and a goose, among others.

These animals love unconditionally and most interestingly, their love brings “a relief from the complications of human love.” When one loves a pet, it is not necessary to worry about if or how or how much that love will be returned. Pets, unlike people, do not explain or complain about what they are supposed to do, they just do it, and that includes spreading an incredible bundle of love toward those who love them in return.

Highly recommended
for adults already pet lovers and also for those that need convincing 

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Lady Fingers

This site is meant to introduce another side of Don Grigware, playwright and short story writer.

The following is a ten-minute play written in August, 2010.

Lady Fingers
by Don Grigware
(The time is evening, around 7 pm, Saturday, November 16, 1963. We are in the kitchen of Carlo’s Italian Café, a basement restaurant in Brooklyn, New York. Carlo, a plain 55 year-old man, is furiously chopping vegetables for his prize-winning salad. Carlo is Italian born, with a heavy accent, and is a consummate chef. When he speaks, it is with the utmost authority. Magenta, his wife of five years, 40ish but still quite beautiful, is American born, of Italian parents, and a bundle of insecurity. She is dressed to the nines, with heavy makeup, and hardly belongs in a kitchen. As Carlo is chopping, Magenta screams bloody murder from the dining room and enters the kitchen abruptly, verbally attacking him the minute we see her. There is a fairly large counter area and a door behind which leads to a back alley. On the wall hangs a large menu of the day’s menu – today, Saturday specials are Carlo’s spicy chicken breast, and for dessert, spumoni with lady fingers.) (Song “Come On a My House” by Rosemary Clooney is heard in the background.)
Magenta
(from outside the kitchen) You crazy son-of-a-bitch! Rat turd! Fuckin asshole! (Magenta enters)
Carlo
What? What are you talking about, my little cannoli?
                                                                  Magenta
You know what I’m talking about, you two-timing son of a puta! You know I have a weak heart and you’ve been screwin’ around behind my back!! (starts looking in a locker, and opens up all the cabinets) Where is she, you fuckin’ dickster?
Carlo
Calm down, spaghetti face! She’s a not here! (catches himself) I mean there’s no one but you, my angel!
Magenta
Liar! Go to confession and tell it to Father Carboni! Open your heart and tell the truth for once in your miserable fuckin’ life!
Carlo
(looks heavenwards) Mama, I’m a sorry! You were right. The face of an angel, but the mouth of a truckdriver! Sit down, Magenta, sweetheart.
Magenta
Tell me the fuckin’ truth! You’re not JFK. He can walk with Jacqueline Bouvier on his arm – she’s got miles of class - and screw Marilyn Monroe on the side and no one says anything, because his family’s rich and powerful. Handsome, powerful men can get away with deceit. Powerful you ain’t!
Carlo
(goes to her and puts his arms around her) Sit down. No, I’m not a powerfula man, I’m a poor chef, but you’re a fine one to talk. You were a cheap barroom stripper when I met you. I pulled you out of that dive and now you have a life. Maybe it’s not a palace, maybe you and I aren’t wearing crowns, but we do OK. Now sit down and I will tell you the truth. Sit down and I will! I promise.
(They sit. She resists at first.)
There’s a no problem! Ok, so, I did see Cassie Meloni lasta week.
Magenta
You went out with that whore?
Carlo
She ordered three pizzas.
Magenta
So you had to deliver them?!
Carlo
Si, di delivery kid was outa sick. Who else can I rely on here? Be razonable!
Magenta
What night was that? Wednesday. I knew I smelled L’air du temps on you that night. That cheap flousy. She always had lousy taste in cologne.
Carlo
Nothing happened. I delivered da pizzas, she paid me and...
Magenta
Did she give you a tip? Did you do it in the living room or couldn’t you hold it in and so you took her right there on the hall floor?
Carlo
No, no, no! Noting a happened. She tried to kissa me and I said no!
Magenta
(starting to be a bit more patient) You turned down a kiss!? Bullshit!
Carlo
Froma that ho, si, I did!! Bambina, she doesn’t a kissa like you!
(they start to laugh. It builds to an hysterical outburst, which leads to some passionate kissing.)
Magenta
(hardly able to contain their passion) Can we close up, for a while? Business is slow.
Carlo
We have a party of 50 coming in in two hours. It’s dinnertime. There are lasagnas to make and meatballs and…No! I can’t, but we’ll make it an early night.
Magenta
(looks at his ring finger) That’s what you always say. Where is your wedding ring?
Carlo
Oh, I must have left it upstairs.
Magenta
No, you didn’t. (long pause) You know, I haven’t seen it on the dresser for a week, if memory serves me right.
Carlo
It’s in the car or the truck. I haven’t lost it.
Magenta
You gave it to her, didn’t you?
Carlo
We are not going to get back to that, are we? I will not clarify that with an answer.
Magenta
You deceitful bastard!
Carlo
WHAT??
Magenta
(looks at sign) And what’s this about lady fingers? What authentic Italian ristorante serves ladyfingers for dessert?
Carlo
You know those little old non Italian ladies from the hood love something dainty to have with their tea or after dinner licor. I thought I’d please the Americans for a change.
(phone rings and Carlo picks it up)
Carlo
Buon journo. Carlo’s Italian Café. Guiseppe Giancarlo, how are you my friend? (seems especially nervous) No, I’ve got it for you. Tonight? I thought our appointment was for tomorrow? Wait a minute…Magenta: Finish cutting the veggies for the salads. I need to talk to him in private. I’ll be right back! (exits to the other room)
Magenta
(cutting) I don’t believe a word that that asshole says. Now he’s probably in trouble with the mafia too! They’ve threatened to close us down before…they could do it again. (sings) (It Must Be Him) Oh, let it please be him, oh dear God, it must be him, …
(Backdoor opens and in creeps a young handsome man about 28, sneaks up behind Magenta and grabs her around the waist and starts kissing her neck. She screams with delight, turns and kisses him.)
Oh, Frank! Oh, Frank…I told you, you must never come here; it’s too dangerous. If he finds you, he’ll kill you.
Frank
Do you think he bothers me? Do you think I’m afraid of him?
Magenta
You don’t understand, my darling. He’s Italian. He has mafia connections. If he finds you or even finds out about you, he’ll kill you and me both. You should be afraid.
Frank
Well, I’m not. I’m half his age, and twice the man he ever was. (grabs her and locks her in a passionate embrace) Do you disagree?
Magenta
You are delicious, that’s for sure! Look, he’s on the other side of that door, on the phone and will be back in the shake of a lamb’s tail. Get your ass out of here. I’ll meet you later!
Frank
At my place at 11?
Magenta
Yes, I promise, but go, go, go!
Frank
Look, I can give you so much more than he can. I can buy and sell this creep.
Magenta
Will you…
(she is interrupted by Carlo’s swift reentry)
Carlo
Ah, ha! I caught you.
Frank
It’s time we put an end to this charade. I have something to say to you.
Carlo
Say it, sonny boy!
Frank
I love your wife and intend to make her happy.
(slowly Carlo makes his way to the counter )
Carlo
I don’t think you can give her the security she needs. Do you know what a big spender she is? She requires a lot of TLC.
Frank
And she deserves it.
Magenta
Thank you, Frank. But…
Carlo
(picking up knife as if he will attack Frank)
You are nothing but a child. (lifts knife and moves toward Frank)
Frank
Holy crap! HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Frank runs to back door, opens it and runs out yelling.)
Magenta
Frank!
Carlo
So much for your LOVER. He’s nothing but a boy toy, a coward. Thought you could fool me! You little two-timing slut! And you had the unmitigated gaul to accuse me of cheating on you!
Magenta
He’s nothing. He means nothing to me.
Carlo
A child! How dare you? And right here in our kitchen.
Magenta
In our kitchen? This is not our home.
Carlo
It’s home to me!
Magenta
So how’s Cassie? Is she joining you later for cocktails?
Carlo
And what about Frank? Was the plan to join him for cocktails?
Magenta
Maybe.
Carlo
And maybe NOT. (he picks up knife from counter and holds it high as if to attack and walks toward her.)
Magenta
What are you doing? (she starts running)
Carlo
Finishing business with you. I should have done it years ago.
Magenta
Don’t be a fool. You need me. Giancarlo wants to take over, doesn’t he? He wants to buy you out. I can help.
Carlo
What? By bedding him my sweet?
Magenta
What?
Carlo
Don’t think I know that you slept with him before?
(they continue running. All of a sudden, Magenta puts up her hand and stops.)
Magenta
Carlo, my heart. Please. I can’t take any more. Please!
(she collapses)
Carlo
My little dessert. My little plum pudding. My little cannoli.
(he checks her pulse and when he realizes she’s dead, he drags her body over toward the counter and props her up, face down, with her right arm outstretched)
(looks up at menu sign)
We’ll see who has the tastiest ladyfingers in town!
(he lifts the knife high and starts to bring it down to cut off her hand, as lights fade.)
THE END
(Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” is heard in the background.)

Introduction

This blog is to introduce another side of Don Grigware, playwright and short story writer.