happy trails
"So, what did you think?"
Curtis was in his usual Thursday night spot, the beanbag chair in my living room.
"I can't believe you made me watch that instead of Lost. I mean it was funny and all, but, I mean... c'mon! LOST!"
"Yeah, but what did you think about the movie?" I asked again.
"Dude, if I wanted a story full of thous and thees I could've just read the Bible. And it was confusing. They spend the whole movie trying to figure out who they and what they're doing and then they die for no reason." I smiled at Curtis with a hint of compassion that was lost on him. "Did they even figure out which was which?"
"It would seem that Gary Oldman was Rosencrantz and Tim Roth was Guildenstern. But they never really said for sure. It doesn't even really matter, that wasn't the point of the story."
"If you ask me, bro, it was pretty fucking stupid. Everyone knew who they were when they appeared magically out of nowhere. And what was with all the Hamlet shit?"
"Think about it, Curtis. Delve"
Curtis started laughing, then said in a really bad English accent, "When's he going to delve I kept asking myself?" He switched back to his normal accent. "That was pretty funny."
"Seriously, Curtis. Didn't it seem... familiar?"
"Well, dude, it was full of Hamlet, of course it seemed familiar."
I sighed, then decided to use Guildenstern's approach with my Rosencrantz. "Curtis, what's the first thing you remember?"
"Well he was flipping a coin over and over and it kept coming up heads....."
"No Curtis, I mean... what's the first thing you remember. About you."
"Ohhhh, like they did in the movie. Ok, ok... I'll play. Uhhhh, so like, my very first memory? After all the things I forgot?
I smiled again and nodded, trying not to visibly cringe. This was going to be hard.
"Pale sky before dawn, a man standing on his saddle to bang on the shutters... I'm just fuckin' with you. Ummmm...."
Curtis became quiet. The familiar, inexplicable light which filled his face drained as the silence grew. It was gradually replaced with confusion. The silence became uncomfortable but finally he spoke again, haltingly.
"I... I remember meeting you at the hotel in Niagara Falls. This is weird, it's like... like, I've got these vague impressions of high school. Something about a roller rink and a Cutlass Supreme... but... dude, this is freaking me out. Does this happen to everyone that watches this movie?"
"That's why I wanted you to watch this movie with me Curtis. You..." I swallowed hard. "You're kinda like them."
"Bro, have you been dipping into the sauce again? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Curtis, why do you think your first memory is the first time you appeared in my journal and the only thing you remember about your younger life also appeared in my journal?"
Curtis was quiet. He reclined backward in the beanbag chair, pulling his knees into his chest with his arms. He looked at me sadly and with disbelief.
"You mean I'm..."
I cut him off. "No Curtis, don't say it. Don't even think it, because it's not true. You mean a lot to me and to quite a few other people who have gotten to know you. You're just... a different kind of person who existed in a specific place in a specific time, which when you think about it, is no different than anyone else."
"So... like this was my time and my place. Your friend for this LJ Idol bullshit?"
"Well, I did give you the best lines. I made a better straight man."
Curtis was quiet again for what seemed like an eternity. He finally broke it to say, "Is it getting cold in here, bro?"
I nodded at him. "The lights aren't on us any more."
"You know this sucks. It really, really sucks. So like, Howie? Morty? Randi?"
I nodded again.
"How did they take it?"
"Well, Morty and Randi knew from the beginning. Randi took it kind of hard since she never got a chance to really grow before our plug was pulled, but she's okay with it. Howie, well... techincally Howie's been gone for a while."
Curtis sat up in the beanbag chair. "Dude, you had all those other plans. Another Howie commercial, the voodoo dolls, the whole stalker gambit. What a shame." Curtis thought for a moment then added, "Maybe like, I could get my own thing you know? Call it 'Curtis' and get that chick from The Sopranos to play my sister and move to L.A. Or, or... 'Srs Loves Curtis' or, wait, that'd be kinda gay. 'After Srs' maybe?" Curtis chuckled a bit to himself and I grinned, glad to see a little of his spark back. He became solemn again for a moment and looked at me. "I guess this is the way I was meant to be and didn't have much of a choice. I could have never existed at all, I suppose. Of all the people I could've had for a best friend, I'm glad I got to be yours, bro."
I was starting to get a little choked-up, but I managed to get out, "I'm glad I got to be your best friend, too."
"So... like, is this it? The last one?"
I nodded.
"Is this... is this going to hurt?"
I shook my head. "No Curtis, you won't feel a thing."
"Ok, so how do we do this? Do I get any final words?"
"Do you have something you want to say?"
"Not really. I just feel like, you know, there should be a blindfold and a cigarette. And a Tombstone pizza."
"Nope, it just ends when it ends. So.. are you ready?"
"Wait wait wait... can I tell a joke?"
"Sure, Curtis."
"Ok. Back in World War II, I was stationed in a small town in France where I was dating a local opera singer. Nearly all ofthe men were off fighting the Germans so most of the civil offices were filled with nuns from the nearby motherhouse. They were doing the daily clerical tasks of keeping the municipal bureaucracy working. The opera house was closed due to the war, but my girlfriend liked to practice in the evenings after working all day in a factory to support the war effort. An ordinance was in effect, however, which prohibited 'excessive' noise after 7pm. After receiving a couple of fines for practicing her singing, she decided to go to the local courthouse with the intent to bribe a local official. I went with her for moral support and waited on the steps of the courthouse while she went inside. She emerged from the courthouse and let out the most beautiful aria I'd ever heard. I said, 'Is that a nun in your pocket or are you just happy to C me?'"
I groaned. "That was a long way to go for a Mae West pun. You sure you want that to be the last thing people remember you for?"
"Actually, there's one more thing. Roll credits!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=emGHTCaz_cE
Curtis was in his usual Thursday night spot, the beanbag chair in my living room.
"I can't believe you made me watch that instead of Lost. I mean it was funny and all, but, I mean... c'mon! LOST!"
"Yeah, but what did you think about the movie?" I asked again.
"Dude, if I wanted a story full of thous and thees I could've just read the Bible. And it was confusing. They spend the whole movie trying to figure out who they and what they're doing and then they die for no reason." I smiled at Curtis with a hint of compassion that was lost on him. "Did they even figure out which was which?"
"It would seem that Gary Oldman was Rosencrantz and Tim Roth was Guildenstern. But they never really said for sure. It doesn't even really matter, that wasn't the point of the story."
"If you ask me, bro, it was pretty fucking stupid. Everyone knew who they were when they appeared magically out of nowhere. And what was with all the Hamlet shit?"
"Think about it, Curtis. Delve"
Curtis started laughing, then said in a really bad English accent, "When's he going to delve I kept asking myself?" He switched back to his normal accent. "That was pretty funny."
"Seriously, Curtis. Didn't it seem... familiar?"
"Well, dude, it was full of Hamlet, of course it seemed familiar."
I sighed, then decided to use Guildenstern's approach with my Rosencrantz. "Curtis, what's the first thing you remember?"
"Well he was flipping a coin over and over and it kept coming up heads....."
"No Curtis, I mean... what's the first thing you remember. About you."
"Ohhhh, like they did in the movie. Ok, ok... I'll play. Uhhhh, so like, my very first memory? After all the things I forgot?
I smiled again and nodded, trying not to visibly cringe. This was going to be hard.
"Pale sky before dawn, a man standing on his saddle to bang on the shutters... I'm just fuckin' with you. Ummmm...."
Curtis became quiet. The familiar, inexplicable light which filled his face drained as the silence grew. It was gradually replaced with confusion. The silence became uncomfortable but finally he spoke again, haltingly.
"I... I remember meeting you at the hotel in Niagara Falls. This is weird, it's like... like, I've got these vague impressions of high school. Something about a roller rink and a Cutlass Supreme... but... dude, this is freaking me out. Does this happen to everyone that watches this movie?"
"That's why I wanted you to watch this movie with me Curtis. You..." I swallowed hard. "You're kinda like them."
"Bro, have you been dipping into the sauce again? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Curtis, why do you think your first memory is the first time you appeared in my journal and the only thing you remember about your younger life also appeared in my journal?"
Curtis was quiet. He reclined backward in the beanbag chair, pulling his knees into his chest with his arms. He looked at me sadly and with disbelief.
"You mean I'm..."
I cut him off. "No Curtis, don't say it. Don't even think it, because it's not true. You mean a lot to me and to quite a few other people who have gotten to know you. You're just... a different kind of person who existed in a specific place in a specific time, which when you think about it, is no different than anyone else."
"So... like this was my time and my place. Your friend for this LJ Idol bullshit?"
"Well, I did give you the best lines. I made a better straight man."
Curtis was quiet again for what seemed like an eternity. He finally broke it to say, "Is it getting cold in here, bro?"
I nodded at him. "The lights aren't on us any more."
"You know this sucks. It really, really sucks. So like, Howie? Morty? Randi?"
I nodded again.
"How did they take it?"
"Well, Morty and Randi knew from the beginning. Randi took it kind of hard since she never got a chance to really grow before our plug was pulled, but she's okay with it. Howie, well... techincally Howie's been gone for a while."
Curtis sat up in the beanbag chair. "Dude, you had all those other plans. Another Howie commercial, the voodoo dolls, the whole stalker gambit. What a shame." Curtis thought for a moment then added, "Maybe like, I could get my own thing you know? Call it 'Curtis' and get that chick from The Sopranos to play my sister and move to L.A. Or, or... 'Srs Loves Curtis' or, wait, that'd be kinda gay. 'After Srs' maybe?" Curtis chuckled a bit to himself and I grinned, glad to see a little of his spark back. He became solemn again for a moment and looked at me. "I guess this is the way I was meant to be and didn't have much of a choice. I could have never existed at all, I suppose. Of all the people I could've had for a best friend, I'm glad I got to be yours, bro."
I was starting to get a little choked-up, but I managed to get out, "I'm glad I got to be your best friend, too."
"So... like, is this it? The last one?"
I nodded.
"Is this... is this going to hurt?"
I shook my head. "No Curtis, you won't feel a thing."
"Ok, so how do we do this? Do I get any final words?"
"Do you have something you want to say?"
"Not really. I just feel like, you know, there should be a blindfold and a cigarette. And a Tombstone pizza."
"Nope, it just ends when it ends. So.. are you ready?"
"Wait wait wait... can I tell a joke?"
"Sure, Curtis."
"Ok. Back in World War II, I was stationed in a small town in France where I was dating a local opera singer. Nearly all ofthe men were off fighting the Germans so most of the civil offices were filled with nuns from the nearby motherhouse. They were doing the daily clerical tasks of keeping the municipal bureaucracy working. The opera house was closed due to the war, but my girlfriend liked to practice in the evenings after working all day in a factory to support the war effort. An ordinance was in effect, however, which prohibited 'excessive' noise after 7pm. After receiving a couple of fines for practicing her singing, she decided to go to the local courthouse with the intent to bribe a local official. I went with her for moral support and waited on the steps of the courthouse while she went inside. She emerged from the courthouse and let out the most beautiful aria I'd ever heard. I said, 'Is that a nun in your pocket or are you just happy to C me?'"
I groaned. "That was a long way to go for a Mae West pun. You sure you want that to be the last thing people remember you for?"
"Actually, there's one more thing. Roll credits!"
Click to viewhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=emGHTCaz_cE