A karaoke bar. A loud, flat, drunk male voice sings “The Heat Is On.”
Sitting at a table with a pitcher of beer, Wheeler, Paul, Margaret, Jules.
Their voices are pitched loud to be heard over music and bar noise.
JULES (Cheering on the singer): Yeah! “The Heat Is On”!
(During the following, Jules splits her attention between the table and the unseen singer.)
WHEELER: Is it? Is the heat on?
PAUL: The heat is on for that chap, apparently.
WHEELER: “Chap”?
PAUL: What’s your problem with “chap”?
WHEELER: Cor blimey, nowt, guv’nah. |
MARGARET: Pip pip cheerio, bumbershoot. |
JULES: I love Huey Lewis!
WHEELER: This isn’t Huey Lewis, it’s— (To himself) —never mind, it’s all the same, nobody cares.
(Margaret aims an iPhone at the others.)
MARGARET: Okay, you two, picture time. Get out of there, Paul, I don’t need a picture of you, I see you every day. Squeeze together, guys. Oh that’s nice. One . . . two . . .
WHEELER: Take the picture, Margaret.
MARGARET: Three! Oh that’s really sweet! I’ll send you a copy.
WHEELER (To Paul): How many Hueys can you name? I’ve got four.
MARGARET: What kind of beer is this?
PAUL: I’ve got four.
MARGARET: Is this a lager?
PAUL: Ayinger Celebrator. It’s a Doppelbock. Can you believe they have a Doppelbock on tap?!
WHEELER: You have odd enthusiasms.
MARGARET: Don’t get me started.
PAUL: What? I like beer.
JULES (Clinks mugs with Paul): I like it too. Woo-hoo!
WHEELER: It’s frickin’ strong, my eyes are watering . . .
MARGARET: He’s threatened to start making it.
PAUL: Brewing it. Home brew!
MARGARET: I told him if he let me have another dog, I’d let him make his stupid beer.
PAUL: No, I don’t want to go through that again.
WHEELER: What happened to Aubrey?
PAUL: No, no, let’s not even get into it, we can’t even mention that dog’s name without a whole—
MARGARET: Oh stop it, don’t treat me like that—
PAUL: I’m sorry, did you not just experience a meltdown when we stumbled on pictures of Aubrey on the laptop?
MARGARET: That was a bad day and you know it—
WHEELER: I guess I can infer that Aubrey is no longer with us.
PAUL: Aubrey passed away on Valentine’s Day.
JULES: That’s so sad! |
WHEELER: Dogs don’t pass away. |
MARGARET: Peacefully—
PAUL: Very peacefully. After a long illness. Which is why we were restricted from traveling for, what, the last five years?
MARGARET: Yeah, it was a long time.
PAUL: And I’m not eager to go through that again. We’ve done it, Aubrey was a great dog.
MARGARET: A great dog. |
WHEELER: A great dog, yes. |
(“The Heat Is On” concludes.)
DEEJAY (Offstage): Merle! Thank you, Merle!
MARGARET: Well, that’s the deal, the beer for the dog. We both need something to occupy us during the long lonely hours at home.
PAUL: All right— |
MARGARET: A lot of couples have offspring to distract them from their shattered dreams. |
PAUL: You want to talk about this with Wheeler present? Really?
MARGARET: As if you two haven’t already had this conversation.
WHEELER: Are you kidding, you guys are my heroes for remaining childless. Everything they say about having kids is true, all the ineffable cosmic shit, but it’s also a nightmare and doesn’t suit everybody. I think if you guys had a kid, you’d be divorced by now.
DEEJAY (Offstage): Debbie! Debbie from Del Mar!
(Female voice sings “Do You Believe in Magic.”)
MARGARET: What makes you say that?
WHEELER: You two would use the kid as barter, or pit the kid against each other. You sure as hell wouldn’t put up a united front. Any child from the two of you would be really whacked out.
(An uncomfortable silence. Then:)
MARGARET: That’s a shitty thing to say.
WHEELER: Why? I’m complimenting you.
MARGARET: It doesn’t sound like a compliment—
PAUL: Yeah, I’ve never heard a compliment sound like that.
WHEELER: Should I be complimenting you on your parenting skills? You don’t have any kids.
MARGARET: You should compliment us for recognizing the complexity of having children.
WHEELER: How is that different from what I said?
MARGARET: You make us sound like just this sniping, incompetent couple. You think we’re that terrible couple from the cartoons.
WHEELER: I apologize. Me and Kelly are the sniping, incompetent couple, and we’ve got the zombie teenager to prove it. Wait, what terrible couple from the cartoons?
PAUL: Yeah, what terrible couple from the cartoons? |
JULES: What are we talking about? |
MARGARET: You know, the married couple from the cartoons.
JULES: The Simpsons!
MARGARET: No, not the . . . that awful couple, I can’t remember their name.
WHEELER: Well, think, this is important to me.
MARGARET: Why?
WHEELER: I don’t know, it’s just the way I’m made.
PAUL: I’m kind of curious myself.
JULES: The Flintstones!
PAUL: The Flintstones weren’t awful.
WHEELER: They were a modern Stone Age family.
MARGARET: Do not do this to me.
WHEELER: What?! I’m trying to help you think of it.
MARGARET: Purposely distracting me from what I was talking about.
WHEELER: I’m helping you figure out what you were talking about.
MARGARET: Goddamn you, Wheeler— |
JULES: The Jetsons! |
WHEELER: Was it the Jetsons? Was it the Flintstones?
PAUL: Blondie and Dagwood?
WHEELER: That was a great marriage, that was a marriage we all envy.
PAUL: He was not very attentive.
WHEELER: Attentive, all he did was eat sandwiches and fuck his wife.
PAUL: He fucked his wife in the newspaper?
WHEELER: No, in the pussy.
PAUL: Wow. |
MARGARET: Oh boy. |
WHEELER: Boom, that’s right, I said it, and I’ve got five Hueys!
PAUL: Bullshit!
WHEELER: Huey Lewis, Huey Newton, Huey Long, and oddly, two ducks—
PAUL: Two ducks, fuck you!
WHEELER: —one of Donald Duck’s nephews and Baby Huey.
MARGARET: You are so weird—
PAUL: What was Baby Huey?
WHEELER: An infant duck the size of a man, wearing a diaper. Tragic.
(“Do You Believe in Magic” concludes.)
DEEJAY (Offstage): Debbie! Thank you, Debbie!
JULES: Is anyone else going to sing?
WHEELER: I am not a singer so I will not be singing. No one in this bar is a singer! Margaret, don’t be mad at me.
MARGARET: You’re infuriating.
WHEELER: Just answer one thing. Was it the Flintstones?
PAUL (Laughing): Man, you are really on thin ice, Wheeler . . .
DEEJAY (Offstage): Jules Isch! Jules Isch!
JULES: That’s me! I’m up!
(Jules chugs her beer, steps into light on a small stage and sings “Stay.” After a verse and a chorus, lights and sound crossfade back to the table.)
WHEELER: If you have even a drop of mercy, kill me now.
MARGARET: I told you. |
PAUL: C’mon, you guys were getting on great at the restaurant. |
WHEELER: We could talk about the food at the restaurant. The only thing we have in common is that we both eat.
MARGARET: She’s a perfectly lovely woman. She’s bright, she’s personable, she has a lot of energy—
WHEELER: —all true— |
MARGARET: —she’s young, she has a cute figure— |
WHEELER: Why are you so angry?
MARGARET: Your contrary nature. You can’t enjoy anything unless it’s your discovery.
WHEELER: That’s inaccurate—
MARGARET: And how dare you say we wouldn’t make good parents. How dare you. A lot goes into a choice like that, you understand? Things you don’t know cause they’re none of your business.
WHEELER: Jesus, Margaret, I’m really sorry. I think maybe I’m drunk from this crazy beer—
MARGARET: I accept your apology. Now if you want to make it up to us, give this woman a chance.
WHEELER: Margaret— |
MARGARET: You don’t have to marry her. |
WHEELER: Good, because you know, officially, I’m still married.
MARGARET: Do you see the look on my face?
WHEELER: Doesn’t her conviction to this song make you a little queasy?
MARGARET: No, it doesn’t.
PAUL: She’s awesome!
MARGARET: She’s in the spirit of the evening, give her some credit. It’s a blind date for her too, and she’s trying. Now when she comes back, Paul and I are gonna fuck off for a minute.
WHEELER: No, don’t leave me here!
MARGARET: I’m asking you to conduct yourself like a gentleman and make conversation with the nice lady for ten lousy minutes.
WHEELER: We don’t have anything in common, she’s not—
MARGARET: Hush. Ten minutes. If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for Paul, don’t make him look bad for setting this up.
WHEELER: Make him look bad, this was your idea.
MARGARET (To Paul): You told him this was my idea?!
PAUL: I thought he’d take it seriously if it came from you—
(Margaret stalks off.)
I came so close to pulling this off.
(Paul exits. Jules finishes the song and rejoins Wheeler at the table.)
WHEELER: That was great.
JULES: Thank you kindly.
WHEELER: Great, just great.
JULES: Thanks.
WHEELER: Yes indeedy. Really . . . really great.
JULES: Where did Margaret and Paul go?
WHEELER: Looks like they might be getting ready to sing? Maybe a duet? What do you think they should sing?
JULES: Ooh . . . “Leather and Lace.”
WHEELER: Oh my God.
JULES: Are we supposed to drink all this beer?
WHEELER: I don’t know that there’s an obligation.
DEEJAY (Offstage): La Toya from La Jolla!
(A woman’s voice sings a creditable rendition of “How Do I Live?”)
JULES: You and Paul go way back.
WHEELER: We went to college together, University of Illinois, me and Paul and Margaret. I went out with Margaret first actually but we sorted all that out a long time ago.
JULES: You all moved out here together?
WHEELER: No, it’s coincidence, we had a number of years when we weren’t as close but we wound up out here and reconnected.
JULES: That’s great. Old friends are the best.
(Wheeler smiles, nods.)
What are you going to sing?
WHEELER: I’m not going to sing. I’m not much of a singer.
JULES: That doesn’t matter.
WHEELER: No, I know, clearly, that’s the whole idea behind karaoke.
JULES: Right. We’re made to sing. People are. It’s part of our functionality.
WHEELER: Huh.
JULES: We’re designed for certain things. We wouldn’t be able to sing if we weren’t able to sing. Kind of like flight.
WHEELER: Like flight, I don’t follow you.
JULES: We can’t fly because we’re not designed to fly. We’re designed to sing, so we do. We should. We’re supposed to, whether we’re good at it or not. It’s one of the things I encourage a lot of my clients to do, is to sing. It can really open you up. Opens people up.
WHEELER: Really.
JULES: It exposes a lot of vulnerability, singing. You know, we’re taught from an early age the things we’re good at or not good at so we’re screwed up and self-conscious, but also just the act of breathing out, sustaining your breath. We can recover old submerged feelings and gain access to our internal selves. We can project so much through song.
WHEELER: I wouldn’t’ve, I wouldn’t’ve . . . I wouldn’t’ve, I wouldn’t’ve thought, thought of that. I don’t think like that. You, you say in your work, this is your work as a, a, a, um, a . . .
JULES: Life coach.
WHEELER: Life coach. You, you . . . you coach life.
JULES: Yeah. I mean to the extent that—you know, coaching is, a lot of it is encouragement—
WHEELER: —sure— |
JULES: —and motivation? But also a good coach gives people tools and exercises that strengthen their performance. |
WHEELER: Right. Wow, maybe I could use some of that cause I—
JULES: I don’t know a person alive who couldn’t benefit from coaching. Good coaching.
WHEELER: Do you study to learn to do that or are you just innately talented at bossing people around?
JULES: No, I studied, I have my degree.
WHEELER: In?
JULES: Happiness.
WHEELER: No, really.
JULES: Really.
WHEELER: No, really though, what is your, you have a degree . . . ?
JULES: I have a master’s. In happiness. Come on, sing a song.
WHEELER: No, I really can’t, I don’t know what I would sing, I—
JULES: “Every Breath You Take.”
WHEELER: I hate that song.
JULES: “Piano Man.”
WHEELER: I hate that song.
JULES: “Let’s Get It Started in Here.”
WHEELER: I hate that song. Are you going to name all the songs?
JULES: “Pretty Woman.”
WHEELER: I really hate that song. I’m resentful every time I’m stuck somewhere listening to it. How much of my life have I spent forced to listen to that terrible song?
JULES: Elvis.
WHEELER: I hate Elvis.
JULES: Queen.
WHEELER: I hate Queen.
JULES: Maroon Five.
WHEELER: I don’t know what that is.
JULES: Radiohead!
WHEELER: Of the many things that could happen tonight, me singing Radiohead is just not on the list. An asteroid will hit this bar before I sing Radiohead.
JULES: You don’t like Radiohead?
WHEELER: Until they came along, I’d forgotten music could be so joyless. I will not sing it on a boat, I will not sing it with a goat, I do not like them, Sam-I-am.
JULES: But how can you not like Radiohead?
WHEELER: I do not like so many things and so many of them are things that a lot of people like. I don’t like many modern bands really, or old bands, or rock ’n’ roll bands, or old or modern rock ’n’ roll bands. I like jazz, Miles and Mingus and Art Blakey and Lee Morgan and Coltrane and Herbie Hancock. Everybody digs Bill Evans. Popular music, I don’t know . . . I like seventies soul, Stevie Wonder, Steely Dan, I do.
JULES: But Radiohead. I mean Thom Yorke.
WHEELER: Thom Yorke, that’s that scrubby little poser, looks like Martin Short got punched in the eye?
JULES: Come on, he’s such a great singer.
WHEELER: Ella Fitzgerald is a great singer.
JULES: It’s not just about the notes, it’s about his sincerity.
WHEELER: Yeah, sorry, I have to disagree. Because until someone invents a machine that measures sincerity, it’s just your perception versus my perception of how sincere someone is. Sincerity can be faked. It’s easier to act sincere than it is to perceive insincerity. So you see Thom Yorke as a guy who doesn’t need to hit all those pesky notes because he’s sincere, whereas I see a guy who is selling a simulation of sincerity so you don’t worry about the pesky notes. I think acting sincere is a way to bypass expertise and craftsmanship. And so a real musician who has put in the work but appears less sincere than Thom Yorke might ask, “What did I bother practicing all those years for?” This is like the old Keith Richards argument.
JULES: What old Keith Richards argument?
WHEELER: Well, it’s my argument. That he sucks.
(“How Do I Live?” concludes.)
DEEJAY (Offstage): Beautiful! Let’s hear it for La Toya!
JULES: Are you a musician?
WHEELER: Can’t play a note. Just an astute observer of the time in which I live.
JULES: You have a strong point of view. And the ability to articulate it. That’s impressive.
WHEELER: Thank you.
JULES: But it’s more fun to like things.
(Wheeler can’t argue.)
DEEJAY (Offstage): Paul and Margaret! Paul and Margaret!
(They appear on the bandstand.)
WHEELER: Oh, here we go, Steve and Eydie.
JULES: Woo-hoo! “Leather and Lace”!
(Paul and Margaret sing “You Don’t Have to Be a Star (To Be in My Show).” After a verse and a chorus, lights and sound crossfade back to the table.)
I don’t think I know this one.
WHEELER: Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis Jr. were members of The 5th Dimension and then they split off and this was their first big hit right out of the gate. It was such a big hit they got their own variety show. When I was a kid if you had a hit song you got your own variety show.
JULES: You know a lot of stuff.
WHEELER: I know nothing of any real value, I’m just old.
JULES: I think you’re sweet.
WHEELER: You do?!
JULES: I do. You think you’re kind of tough. But it’s touching that you don’t realize how vulnerable you are. You’re like a turtle who doesn’t know he’s lost his shell.
WHEELER: That’s . . . actually a very kind thing to say. That, uh . . . yeah.
(She takes his hand.)
But I’m still not singing.
(She laughs, he laughs with her.)