A MAN in his sixties. Looking at us.
MAN … I see that Archie’s in love. Again. You know “Archie,” right? The kid from the comics? That guy? Of course you do. Everybody knows Archie. I’m not saying people still read him—I mean, someone must or they wouldn’t have it out there on the newsstand—but folks know who it is when you say that name. “Archie.” It was a big deal back in the day … not so much when I was young, not then, but at least when my kids were growing up … or just in-between. Maybe around the time I got married but before we had the boys. I’m not sure now, and I’m certainly not gonna “google” it or whatever the hell it is you do on your phone. I hate that. Smart phone. Bullshit. Mine can barely make a call, let alone be a dictionary or … what’s the other … an encyclopedia. Jesus, that’s not what a phone is for … to do crap like that. It’s not. It’s a “phone.” It’s right there, in the name. “Phone.” It’s for phoning. Why everybody thinks this little gadget in their pocket has to be, like, capable of moon landings and shit like that … I don’t know. I buy the cheapest, easiest one I can find … not even a camera in it, if I can help it. Nothing. Just a phone. That’s all I need. To be able to call people, if and when it’s necessary … like emergencies. Side of the road. Somebody hit their head on the ice. Things like that. You won’t find me driving down a highway, steering with my knee, talking to my best friend or trying to figure out where the next Howard Johnson’s is. That’s not—doesn’t matter. Just my point of view on things today. The way things are now. It’s not worth discussing. (Beat.) Anyway, like I said before: Archie’s got a girlfriend. Actually, I said that because I saw it with my own two eyes but I have no idea if he’s always after girls these days … no idea whatsoever. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he’d been with a man by now. I’m serious. I wouldn’t even bat an eye. In fact, some part of me feels like that has already happened … if not to him then one of the other characters who’re in his stories. “Jughead,” maybe. Seems like a likely candidate for “gay.” That one was always a little bit fruity, with that crazy hat and his … you know what I’m saying! I’m not making things up here. Jughead was an oddball, no two ways about it. What kind of name is that, anyhow? “Jug-head.” It even sounds sexual … (Beat.) Could be one of the other boys as well—who was there? I hardly remember—“Reggie,” I think, or some name like that one … Reggie … or “Moose,” maybe? Wasn’t there a big kid, like, a football player named “Moose” in there, too? I think so. It’s not surprising these days if a guy like Moose turns out to love boys … it’s happening more and more out there in the world of sports. Almost every other week you hear about some person who’s now got a boyfriend and whatever—swimmers and a lot of those types … divers … which makes some kind of sense, when you think about it—but football men and hockey players, too. It happens. So, yeah, could’ve been Moose that I read about or caught just a glimpse of, hanging in the magazine shop one time … but I do think they did some sort of storyline where one of the guys from that group—Archie’s circle of pals—fell for another man. That or it was some comic book that was drawn in almost the exact same way; like “we should sue you for stealing” kind of way … I swear it was “Archie” comics but not in a court of law. I’m sure, but I’m not sure sure. You understand? (Beat.) Might’ve been the other one. “Reggie.” The dark-headed one. That guy was always … and again, this is me just reading over the shoulder of my kids or at the doctor’s office, waiting to get a check-up … but that Reggie guy was always talking about girls and how he’s dating so-and-so and gonna marry such-and-such and after a while, when things never work out for him and he’s still going on and on about women, then it starts to look fishy. You know? Like maybe he’s covering something up. I don’t know. I’m just talking, but it’s strange. I think, anyway. (Beat.) But not Archie … nope. More I think about it, I think he never would’ve experimented with another person. Not, like, a male person, anyway. This fella, this normal sort of teenager, with the red hair and the wide eyes, all the time doing this and that—fixing up his old jalopy or raising money to help somebody do some cool thing—Archie just keeps on going back and forth between the blonde girl and the dark one. “Betty” and “Veronica.” Back and forth. One minute he has those hearts drawn in around his face and we know he loves Betty and then he’s off trying to get the other one to go out with him. The beautiful one. Veronica. He can’t make up his mind: one issue he’s up and after the girl-next-door, which would be “Betty” (she’s like the “Barbie” type) but not much later he’s smitten with the other one. The real looker, I think. The brunette. “Veronica.” That’s how it was, all while I was aware of this guy … him and his comic exploits … but not so any more. No way. Not at all. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. (Beat.) Archie is now seeing some Indian girl. He is. He absolutely is, It’s on the cover of the latest issue … or if not the last one, then the one just before that. And she is definitely an Indian—not the kind from here, not some American kind, not like the cowboy and indian type—but a girl from the country of India. Yeah. Type with the dot on her forehead. That kind. Uh-huh. (Beat.) And I’m not saying anything here—none of my business—and it’s worth noting that the guy doesn’t even really exist, I know that, but: wow. I’m surprised, I am. That’s all. I mean: Archie. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, I’m sure it’s progressive and all that jazz … all I’m saying is that I was a little bit caught off guard as I’m in line there, eight in the morning with a pack of gum in my hand and just trying to get to work on time. (Beat.) It’s like anything I guess … like I’ve been talking about … phones or Archie or, or … even a breakfast cereal or a brand of cookies. Look at Cheerios or Oreos. Stuff like that. For years and years they go along and make a name for themselves doing a thing, one thing that they do very well. Really really well and that’s what makes them what they are. A brand. Something a person like me can count on. Wrigley’s gum. Same pack since I don’t know when. Spearmint? Green. Peppermint? White. Juicy Fruit? Yellow. All the time, same thing and it works. It does. The system just works and I’m happy chewing my gum and the Wrigley family’s happy buying up baseball teams and every piece of real estate in the known world, from here to wherever … Catalina Island. Right? That is the way it works here in the United States. We thought it up, we figured it out … people have fought and died so it could happen that way … I served, yes I did … and that’s the system. How things are. Then suddenly, middle of nowhere, some kid comes out of law school or one of those other places that I find really very suspect—the Rhode Island School of Design—and they’ve figured out a better way to make the mousetrap. Created some kind of new wheel that rolls better or a fuel that is less something or more of a whatnot … I don’t know but you know what I’m saying and what I’m saying is true of a certain way we do things today. People: if it’s not broke, don’t fix it. You ever heard that one? Huh? Well, it’s true … Not just a quote but the truth. Leave it alone. Leave things be. Don’t need twelve kinds of Cheez-its and forty-five types of Doritos or, I mean, what about cars? Mercedes. They’ve ruined that company … don’t care how much money they make … it used to be a classy car. Classy. Now it’s got twenty different styles—the nice one and a cheap one and a little one—nothing means anything any longer. It’s all just “stuff.” Shapeless, similar stuff that is indistinguishable from any other stuff…. “stuff from other countries” stuff … and that is not America. It’s not. We’re the best. We’re special, we are … and there’s only one way to stay that way. You-don’t-water-down-what-you-got. Food, cars. The clothes you buy. And people. I don’t care if he’s a comic or not … Archie can’t go and marry some Indian girl! What’s gonna come of that? Huh? Different customs and different mores. Religions. The children would be torn this way and that way—I’m sure they even burn their women after a man dies over there. They do. Right? I’m pretty sure that’s true … and that’s no way for the wife of Archie to end up. I mean, right? That’s awful. Even for a drawing. (Beat.) Anyway, ’nuf said. I’ve said my piece and I’ll say no more. It’s no big deal to me … it’s not. It really isn’t. (Beat.) I’m just looking out for the guy. That’s all …
He stops talking for a moment. Looks at us. Nods. Looks away.
THE END.