(Pause. He quiets down almost to a whisper.)
I’m big! I’m big in every goddamn medium you can name. I’m a best seller. My name on books! My name in TV. My name on top of the credits in goddamn movies for Christsakes! The silver screen, people! My A Christmas Story. In the limelight. And oh, what a limelight, and the problem is that most people don’t even know I created it—that it’s all mine—that damn, famous, family, holiday movie everybody loves! And people used to say that Garrison Keillor might someday be as good as Jean Shepherd. Oh, that was the day!
The limelight. And where am I now? Some kid, some Shep-kook, took the time to transcribe a lot of my radio stuff and he sent it to me. Here.
(Sound of paper rustling as he opens pages to read)
Quote: “Now all of this might seem to you to be a mélange of nothingness—but isn’t really a mélange of nothingness. Not at all. Because it is a mélange of our life, the existence we live. And if you’re going to be fulfilled, you’ve got to live your existence out. You’ve got to play out the string. It’s—it’s just the natural course of events.“ Unquote.
Yeah, folks out there in radioland. One last little transcript from my great old radio days. Quote: “We’re all born butterflies. Each one of us. With these beautiful, magnificent wings ready to fly in the sunshine. For those slow barrel rolls and loops. And slowly, oh, ever so slowly, we burn those wings off—in flame. And we wind up where we are now. Me here. You there. Both of us eternally hitching, hitching a ride along the US4 of life.” Unquote.
(The sound of him crumpling the paper.)
(One more to come of radio play.)