WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ IS:
IRRELIGIOUS, IRREVERENT, AND IRRELEVANT.
THE PEOPLE, PLACES, AND EVENTS CONTAINED IN ST MUCKYMUCK ARE COMPLETELY FICTIONAL. ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCES TO REAL PEOPLE, REAL PLACES, AND/OR REAL EVENTS PAST, PRESENT, OR FUTURE IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.
THE PEOPLE, PLACES, AND EVENTS CONTAINED IN ST MUCKYMUCK ARE COMPLETELY FICTIONAL. ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCES TO REAL PEOPLE, REAL PLACES, AND/OR REAL EVENTS PAST, PRESENT, OR FUTURE IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.
IN FACT, ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANYTHING AT ALL WILL BE REMARKABLY COINCIDENTAL.
Thursday, 3:00 PM
The Archbishop’s Office
The Archbishop and his aid were in the office alone. The wagon now had a large cloth tarp around it. There was a small ladder alongside it. The block had the unmistakable face and more unmistakable mink miter carved into the top part of it. There was black dust and chunks of black stone lying around all over the place, like the ruins of an ancient civilization.
The Archbishop sat at his desk, pouring over the pencil drawing that Rafa had done the previous day. He kept comparing the stained glass window of himself with the drawing on the desk behind him. Then he held out his thumb at arm’s length and measured his black marbled likeness’ nose with the one in the drawing before him. Then he picked up the elegant mirror that Emma had repaired the day before and compared the drawing, sculpture, and window with his reflected visage.
He winked at himself and put the mirror down – bumping the photograph. He picked it up. It read:
FIRST PRIZE ROSEMARY CLOONEY LOOKALIKE CONTEST
SAN FRANCISCO GAY PRIDE
JUNE 24, 1984
He picked up the mirror and compared the photograph with his own face rubbing his chin and neck. His mind wandered back those many years to San Francisco in 1984. He was in
an old, black Victorian house just past 18th Street on Castro. He was not in his full regalia but his familiar mink miter was on a dresser behind him reflected in a shell shaped mirror as he sat at the vanity Emma had seen.
But the reflection could not have been any different. He sported a shoulder length, platinum blonde wig perfectly coiffed in a 50s hairstyle the same as Rosemary Clooney’s in White Christmas. His dress was black as night with a plunging sweetheart neckline. The skirt fanned out at the bottom. He stood up. The dress swished as he turned and he looked at himself in yet another mirror on the opposite wall. A grand, full-length one. He adjusted the form fitting skirt and then put on a pair of black satin gloves. He looked uncannily like Rosemary Clooney.
The scene faded and he was now gazing at himself in the three mirrors located behind the revolving panel wall. He surveyed himself and it was as if the lights went out and a spotlight came on. He stepped into the center of the alcove into the heat of the light, as though taking center stage of a Broadway musical and sang:
Me! Me!! Me!!!
Life's all about me.
That's all I have to say.
Me! Me!! Me!!!
Life's all about me,
Day after day.
This miter makes me look good
I really have to say.
It brings out my eye color
And makes me such a handsome dude.
Me! Me!! Me!!!
Life's all about me!
Day after day.
I look so darned good
It ought to be fined.
What can I say?
I'm a dandy find.
Silence comes to those
Who look on my face.
"Launch a thousand ships
Like Helen, Your Grace!"
Move aside Venus.
Move Aphrodite.
No room for all us.
Just one, the Almighty:
Me! Me!! Me!!!
Life's all about me.
Unless anything goes wrong.
Then everything
Becomes about you.
I change the tune of my song.
I'll pass along the buck
When things don't go my way.
That's because there is no way
Others can think that I might suck.
Me! Me!! Me!!!
It's all about me!
(Spoken.) You see:
(Sung:)
I'm paranoid, schizophrenic,
Borderline, bipolar, narcissistic.
And that's all you need to know
About me!
As the song progresses, he changes out of his regalia. The staff goes in a special holder upstage of the vanity. The mink miter is carefully removed and placed on a wig dummy up left of the three mirrors.
Stacy Leach dressed in a flowing dressing robe comes on, helping him remove each article of clothing and carefully hanging it up. Gradually, the Archbishop is transformed into the Rosemary Clooney look alike with the beautiful black dress and shiny red lipstick. Finally, Stacy Leach puts the burgundy robe from the hat stand on the Archbishop and as the song finishes with a big, strong stripper-type ending, His Grace is transformed. He turns and walks upstage toward the cuckoo clock and we see painted in big gold, elegant letters: Mys Tery. He blows a kiss toward the audience and the stage goes to black out.
©2010 Steven Gorman. All rights reserved.
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