He was in a fog! He was in a fugue! He wanted fudge. He wanted fags. As in cigarettes. That was what he really wanted! The smooth tobacco taste of Winston; because he smoked for taste! Maybe that nice Fred fellow would come by with some?
Or perhaps that lovely Miss Hathaway and her friends Jed and that good looking Jethro; maybe he could bum a pack off of them?
The nurse came to his bedside. She looked familiar. She rested a cool palm on his forehead. "Temperature's down, finally. I've brought you some soup. I want you to sit up now and eat it. It's Campbell's Manhandler!"
"What flavor?" he asked, squinting from the snow-glare light coming through the window.
"Well, let's see...we've got Vegetable Beef, Chili Beef, Split Pea with Ham, Noodles and Ground Beef and Scotch Broth."
He sat up on one elbow. "That last one sounds intriguing. Does it have real Scotch in it?"
The nurse smiled. "Now you know, Mr. Reidy; that we don't have any alcohol here at Silver Hill..." She turned on the television.
"What flavor?" he asked, squinting from the snow-glare light coming through the window.
"Well, let's see...we've got Vegetable Beef, Chili Beef, Split Pea with Ham, Noodles and Ground Beef and Scotch Broth."
He sat up on one elbow. "That last one sounds intriguing. Does it have real Scotch in it?"
The nurse smiled. "Now you know, Mr. Reidy; that we don't have any alcohol here at Silver Hill..." She turned on the television.
"Will I have to shovel the driveway?" he asked, when she returned with the soup.
"Of course not. You're here for you mind. Your body will come later."
"I just realized who you look like..."
"Who?"
"Heidi Gardner from Saturday Night Live."
"I don't know who she is. Or what Saturday Night Live is. Is that a movie?"
He looked around. Something was off. Oh no! It was happening again. When he was young and he heard that song: "They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha Haaa!"; his heart would race and he would grow terrified. Imagine that. Shaken to the core by a stupid novelty song. But yes, it had upset him. But now here he was--
"What is this place? Where am I?"
WHERE AM I?
The cliche was frighteningly of the moment. This moment. When was this moment?
"What year is it? Who's the President?"
"Take a deep breath. It's 1968 and the President is Mr. Johnson. You're in the Silver Hill Sanitarium in New Canaan, Connecticut."
Saturday Night Live isn't even an idea yet. And Heidi is just an egg somewhere, at the moment. Another nurse popped her head in the room and said: "They're ready downstairs." The second nurse smiled at him. She had dark hair, unlike the first nurse, who was blonde. Then he realized who Nurse Number Two looked like and his memory started coming back; like a rolling ball of thunder; as the bard said.
"Of course not. You're here for you mind. Your body will come later."
"I just realized who you look like..."
"Who?"
"Heidi Gardner from Saturday Night Live."
"I don't know who she is. Or what Saturday Night Live is. Is that a movie?"
He looked around. Something was off. Oh no! It was happening again. When he was young and he heard that song: "They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha Haaa!"; his heart would race and he would grow terrified. Imagine that. Shaken to the core by a stupid novelty song. But yes, it had upset him. But now here he was--
"What is this place? Where am I?"
WHERE AM I?
The cliche was frighteningly of the moment. This moment. When was this moment?
"What year is it? Who's the President?"
"Take a deep breath. It's 1968 and the President is Mr. Johnson. You're in the Silver Hill Sanitarium in New Canaan, Connecticut."
Saturday Night Live isn't even an idea yet. And Heidi is just an egg somewhere, at the moment. Another nurse popped her head in the room and said: "They're ready downstairs." The second nurse smiled at him. She had dark hair, unlike the first nurse, who was blonde. Then he realized who Nurse Number Two looked like and his memory started coming back; like a rolling ball of thunder; as the bard said.
The blonde nurse nodded. "We'll be right down...as soon as Mr. Reidy has finished his soup." Campbell's Soup. He couldn't help but think of Andy Warhol. And his next thought was of Edie Sedgwick. And hadn't she stayed at this very place once? And then he wondered why Edie Brickell sort of disappeared once she married Paul Simon. And didn't she sing a song about Edie? Yes. Yes she did.
Maybe Edie was here, he thought. Donde esta Edie?
When he was finished with his Scotch Broth, the Blonde Nurse whisked the bowl away and watched as he put on his silk, paisley robe and monogrammed slippers: CRF
He nodded his readiness and the nurse guided him out of the room and down a large wood-panelled, grand stairwell to the ground floor. A door to a dayroom was opened and once through it, he was standing in front of a semi-circle of concerned faces. Some in repose. Some animated: literally(!). He recognized them immediately: Valerie Brown and Alexandra Cabot and her brother Alexander. And their cat, Sebastian.
When he was finished with his Scotch Broth, the Blonde Nurse whisked the bowl away and watched as he put on his silk, paisley robe and monogrammed slippers: CRF
He nodded his readiness and the nurse guided him out of the room and down a large wood-panelled, grand stairwell to the ground floor. A door to a dayroom was opened and once through it, he was standing in front of a semi-circle of concerned faces. Some in repose. Some animated: literally(!). He recognized them immediately: Valerie Brown and Alexandra Cabot and her brother Alexander. And their cat, Sebastian.
He recognized some other faces. Bette Davis. Cicely Tyson. But some of the others were foggy, obscured; or just in his periphery and he couldn't quite place them, like in a dream sometimes. The Blonde Nurse fluffed a pillow in an armchair facing the group. "Why don't you have a seat?" she asked. He sat. She continued. "These people are here because--"
"I know why they're here. This is an intervention. But I'm already in the booby-hatch. So I'm guessing this is about my..."
"Pahhhhrrrahhhnoihhhahhhh!" Bette Davis proclaimed as she exhaled a wave of filterless cigarette smoke.
"OCD..." he mumbled, unconvinced. And then again. "OCD."
Lola Falana took a sip of a supposedly contraband martini and *SIGHED*
"I know why they're here. This is an intervention. But I'm already in the booby-hatch. So I'm guessing this is about my..."
"Pahhhhrrrahhhnoihhhahhhh!" Bette Davis proclaimed as she exhaled a wave of filterless cigarette smoke.
"OCD..." he mumbled, unconvinced. And then again. "OCD."
Lola Falana took a sip of a supposedly contraband martini and *SIGHED*
"Okay," he said, "I want to talk in the first person...I'm not even sure about the narrative voice I'm using right now. Fuck that. And fuck you grammar police. I like doing these things as scripts."
At this point, the doctor overseeing the "INTERVENTION" takes a sip of water and looks at his notes. This is DR. BOB HARTLEY, Ph. D.
DR. HARTLEY
So, ah, Mr. Reidy...
CHRIS
You can call me Chrissy.
DR. HARTLEY
Well, ah, in group, we all prefer last names with courtesy titles, Chrissy--oh, ah, I mean...Mr. Chrissy. Ah, Mr. Reidy.
CHRIS
Sure.
ALEXANDRA CABOT
Well don't think I'm referring to that dumb red-head as Miss Josie!
ALEXANDER CABOT III
Cool it, sis. Just pet your pussy and relax.
SEBASTIAN THE CAT
LAUGHS RASPILY and jumps to Alexandra's lap.
VALERIE
Yeah Miss Cabot. Not everything is about you! Mr. Reidy has problems too.
CICELY TYSON
Oh boy, does he have problems. I've met this cat before and all he does is--
DR. HARTLEY
Okay, Miss Tyson; only positive and supporting statements are allowed in this space. Now, Mr. Reidy. You started this off by using profanity. Are you, ah...angry about something?
CHRIS
I don't know if angry is quite the right word. Maybe, anxious. Or confused. Or concerned that I'm losing my mind?
MR. CARLIN
Losing? Try the past tense, pal.
DR. HARTLEY
Now, ah, Mr. Carlin, do you ah, think that that statement is supportive?
MR. CARLIN
Like a jock-strap; and I know this kook is hung-up on freak-out-kink!
DR. HARTLEY
Now, ah, Mr. Carlin, we don't make judgments about--
A phone RINGS on a side-table.
DR. HARTLEY
Excuse me a moment everyone...(He picks up receiver and presses a button on a small speaker box)....ah, yes, hello? Oh, hi, Emily. Hold on. I'm, ah, putting you on speaker...ah, I mean...you're on--(He plays with button)...the air...
EMILY HARTLEY
(O/S) ...Oh, Bob...I don't want everyone to hear this.
DR. HARTLEY
But, ah, Emily honey...in, ah, group...we share everything. I mean, Mrs. Hartley. Honey.
EMILY
(O/S) I'd prefer you didn't share me with anyone. Take me off the speaker Bob...
DR. HARTLEY
Oh, okay...(presses button). What's going on? What. What about Howard? He's what? Well how did that happen? Well what was he doing on our balcony? Who? You say his cousin was threatening to jump? His cousin Howard? He has a cousin who's also named "Howard"? Howard Howard? No...Howard, Howard...our Howard. Howard Borden. What? What do you mean "what's confusing about this"? What isn't, Mrs. Hartley? Ah, Mrs. Honey. Who would name a kid Howard Howard? No wonder he wants to jump. Oh, that is why he wants to jump. Listen honey, I need to jump off too. No, the line. Not the balcony. I need to jump off the line. You want me to pick up what for dinner? Howard who? Oh! Howard Johnson's, right. That would be fine--
Losing? Try the past tense, pal.
DR. HARTLEY
Now, ah, Mr. Carlin, do you ah, think that that statement is supportive?
MR. CARLIN
Like a jock-strap; and I know this kook is hung-up on freak-out-kink!
DR. HARTLEY
Now, ah, Mr. Carlin, we don't make judgments about--
A phone RINGS on a side-table.
DR. HARTLEY
Excuse me a moment everyone...(He picks up receiver and presses a button on a small speaker box)....ah, yes, hello? Oh, hi, Emily. Hold on. I'm, ah, putting you on speaker...ah, I mean...you're on--(He plays with button)...the air...
EMILY HARTLEY
(O/S) ...Oh, Bob...I don't want everyone to hear this.
DR. HARTLEY
But, ah, Emily honey...in, ah, group...we share everything. I mean, Mrs. Hartley. Honey.
EMILY
(O/S) I'd prefer you didn't share me with anyone. Take me off the speaker Bob...
DR. HARTLEY
Oh, okay...(presses button). What's going on? What. What about Howard? He's what? Well how did that happen? Well what was he doing on our balcony? Who? You say his cousin was threatening to jump? His cousin Howard? He has a cousin who's also named "Howard"? Howard Howard? No...Howard, Howard...our Howard. Howard Borden. What? What do you mean "what's confusing about this"? What isn't, Mrs. Hartley? Ah, Mrs. Honey. Who would name a kid Howard Howard? No wonder he wants to jump. Oh, that is why he wants to jump. Listen honey, I need to jump off too. No, the line. Not the balcony. I need to jump off the line. You want me to pick up what for dinner? Howard who? Oh! Howard Johnson's, right. That would be fine--
ALEXANDRA
Who is this quack? Can we just get on with whatever this is? I need to get back to the spaceship to make sure that dumb Josie doesn't try to steal Alan away from me again!
VALERIE
He was never yours Alexandra; when will you--
DR. HARTLEY
I think, ah, we're getting a little--
BETTE DAVIS
WHAT A DUMP!
DR. HARTLEY
I'm sorry, who are you?
BETTE
I'm Miss Davis and again I say: What A Dump!
DR. HARTLEY
What, ah, do you mean by "dump"?
BETTE
This place. It's a stone cold dump. No wonder this poor boy is beside himself. This is supposed to be a mental hospital? And you call yourself a doctor? Where are the cigarettes? Get this Bay State boy a cigarette, RIGHT THIS MINUTE!
BLONDE NURSE
I'll go find the cigarette girl...
She dashes out of the room.
BETTE
Now, let's get to the meat of this Irish stew! But first, he needs a drink!
BRUNETTE NURSE
We don't allow that, here at Silver Hill. We feel it's necessa--
BETTE
DON'T TELL ME WHAT'S NECESSA! I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S NECESSA!
VALERIE
I have a degree in chemistry. And I make a killer Tequillatini!
BETTE
Thannnnnnnnkkkk Yooooou!!!
VALERIE
And here's Special Blog Guest Star, Mr. Stanley Tucci to help us out!
WILD APPLAUSE!
CHRIS
Hell's Yeah!
Who is this quack? Can we just get on with whatever this is? I need to get back to the spaceship to make sure that dumb Josie doesn't try to steal Alan away from me again!
VALERIE
He was never yours Alexandra; when will you--
DR. HARTLEY
I think, ah, we're getting a little--
BETTE DAVIS
WHAT A DUMP!
DR. HARTLEY
I'm sorry, who are you?
BETTE
I'm Miss Davis and again I say: What A Dump!
DR. HARTLEY
What, ah, do you mean by "dump"?
BETTE
This place. It's a stone cold dump. No wonder this poor boy is beside himself. This is supposed to be a mental hospital? And you call yourself a doctor? Where are the cigarettes? Get this Bay State boy a cigarette, RIGHT THIS MINUTE!
BLONDE NURSE
I'll go find the cigarette girl...
She dashes out of the room.
BETTE
Now, let's get to the meat of this Irish stew! But first, he needs a drink!
BRUNETTE NURSE
We don't allow that, here at Silver Hill. We feel it's necessa--
BETTE
DON'T TELL ME WHAT'S NECESSA! I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S NECESSA!
VALERIE
I have a degree in chemistry. And I make a killer Tequillatini!
BETTE
Thannnnnnnnkkkk Yooooou!!!
VALERIE
And here's Special Blog Guest Star, Mr. Stanley Tucci to help us out!
WILD APPLAUSE!
CHRIS
Hell's Yeah!
VALERIE
Let's hear it for Mr. Tucci!
WILD APPLAUSE! as Valerie pours Tequilatinis for everyone. Chris SMACKS his with relish. The Blonde Nurse returns with JOAN CRAWFORD who is dressed as a 1940's Cigarette Girl.
JOAN
(As she glides across the room) Cigars...cigarettes. Cigars...cigarettes.
Chris flags her down.
CHRIS
Do you have Parliaments?
JOAN
No Sir--
CHRIS
True?
JOAN
No Sir--
CHRIS
Kent? (Joan shakes her head with each brand) Vantage? Kool Ultra-Lights? Yves Saint Laurent? Players? Benson and Hedges Ultra Light Menthol? No? (More head shaking) Merit? Winston Ultra Lights? Marlboro Lights?'
JOAN
Oh, wait. I do have Vantage.
She offers him a pack.
JOAN
That'll be a dollar fifty.
CHRIS
Really? Wow? In my day, they're like ten times that!
He hands her the money and she hands him some matches. He opens the pack and eagerly lights one.
DR. HARTLEY
Just when exactly is your time, Mr. Reidy? Are you saying that allegorically?
CICELY TYSON
I'm telling you doctor, this cat is off of his rocker. He's about to tell you--
CHRIS
Miss Tyson, I thought I could count on you as a fellow December Nineteenther...
CICELY
Not after you dragged me to that gawdawful broadway show with the trampolines!
CHRIS
Okay. I'm sorry. I made a mistake. Look, Dr. Hartley; Miss Tyson was about to tell you that I was about to tell you that I'm from the future.
CICELY
No, I was about to tell him that you were about to tell him that some department store stole your Santa.
Let's hear it for Mr. Tucci!
WILD APPLAUSE! as Valerie pours Tequilatinis for everyone. Chris SMACKS his with relish. The Blonde Nurse returns with JOAN CRAWFORD who is dressed as a 1940's Cigarette Girl.
JOAN
(As she glides across the room) Cigars...cigarettes. Cigars...cigarettes.
Chris flags her down.
CHRIS
Do you have Parliaments?
JOAN
No Sir--
CHRIS
True?
JOAN
No Sir--
CHRIS
Kent? (Joan shakes her head with each brand) Vantage? Kool Ultra-Lights? Yves Saint Laurent? Players? Benson and Hedges Ultra Light Menthol? No? (More head shaking) Merit? Winston Ultra Lights? Marlboro Lights?'
JOAN
Oh, wait. I do have Vantage.
She offers him a pack.
JOAN
That'll be a dollar fifty.
CHRIS
Really? Wow? In my day, they're like ten times that!
He hands her the money and she hands him some matches. He opens the pack and eagerly lights one.
DR. HARTLEY
Just when exactly is your time, Mr. Reidy? Are you saying that allegorically?
CICELY TYSON
I'm telling you doctor, this cat is off of his rocker. He's about to tell you--
CHRIS
Miss Tyson, I thought I could count on you as a fellow December Nineteenther...
CICELY
Not after you dragged me to that gawdawful broadway show with the trampolines!
CHRIS
Okay. I'm sorry. I made a mistake. Look, Dr. Hartley; Miss Tyson was about to tell you that I was about to tell you that I'm from the future.
CICELY
No, I was about to tell him that you were about to tell him that some department store stole your Santa.
JOAN
Let's not forget Only Murders In the Building.
BETTE
Or Miss Fey and her Army of Clones!
JOAN
Or The English Teacher.
BETTE
Or that boy and his Daddy who's a puppet! (Singing) I've writtten a letter to Daddy Puppet; his address is ole' 30 Rock!
DR. HARTLEY
Okay, ah, I'm going to stop you all right there. I have absolutely no idea what anyone is talking about. Mr. Reidy, perhaps you could explain to the group?
CHRIS
Okay. So, I'm from the future. About fifty years, give or take...
DR. HARTLEY
Go on.
CHRIS
So, ahhm, I'm assuming you all have seen The Jetsons or the movie 2001?
ALEXANDER
We watched that on the spaceship, man! It was a gas! It was like we were living it!
ALEXANDRA
We were living it you bone-head!
Let's not forget Only Murders In the Building.
BETTE
Or Miss Fey and her Army of Clones!
JOAN
Or The English Teacher.
BETTE
Or that boy and his Daddy who's a puppet! (Singing) I've writtten a letter to Daddy Puppet; his address is ole' 30 Rock!
DR. HARTLEY
Okay, ah, I'm going to stop you all right there. I have absolutely no idea what anyone is talking about. Mr. Reidy, perhaps you could explain to the group?
CHRIS
Okay. So, I'm from the future. About fifty years, give or take...
DR. HARTLEY
Go on.
CHRIS
So, ahhm, I'm assuming you all have seen The Jetsons or the movie 2001?
ALEXANDER
We watched that on the spaceship, man! It was a gas! It was like we were living it!
ALEXANDRA
We were living it you bone-head!
CHRIS
Well, you know how they have like, talking computers and news on screens and giant TV's and robot vacuum cleaners?
ALL
Uhh-huh, yes, sure, you bet...etc.
CHRIS
Well, that stuff all comes true, more or less by my time. And not only that; but the computers start to get real savvy and figure out what you're interested in: your likes. Your wants and needs. And they start tailoring what they show to you. A kind of bespoke information stream. So, it's as though the media of my time keeps showing me stuff that reminds me of other stuff...
DR. HARTLEY
What kind of stuff?
CHRIS
The kind of stuff I create; as a creative person. I'm a writer and despite Miss Davis' claims that I suffer from paranoia; I seem to see a lot of my work come to fruition at the hands of other people.
DR. HARTLEY
At the hands of other people. That's quite poetic. But you mean stealing, yes?
CHRIS
I eschew that word.
MR. CARLIN
Oh, don't be such a pussy!
Sebastian the cat LAUGHS his hissy laugh.
DR. HARTLEY
Mr. Carlin; I thought we talked about this.
MR. CARLIN
Oh, come on Dr. Hartley. It's true. He wouldn't say shit if he had a mouthful of it. I know, let's write a haiku for him!
(Counts off syllables on fingers):
Crazy man sits here
Puffing on a cigarette
Not admitting truth
CHRIS
What is the truth any more? 1984 is now a handbook; not a warning. We've all fallen down to fucking Wonderland; so my truth is my truth; but why should anyone believe me if objective truth is now just a notion?
DR. HARTLEY
Who is "anyone"?
BETTE
For him, anyone is "no one"; since nobody reads this but him. (To Chris) Sorry dear; but I have to be honest.
The Frog Footman and the Fish Footman from Wonderland come into the room. The Frog Footman holds a giant envelope.
FISH FOOTMAN
The envelope please...
FROG FOOTMAN
If you please; the envelope.
The Frog hands the the envelope to the Fish who opens it and removes the card.
FISH
And the winner is...
FROG
(Looks at card) And the winner is: Anora.
WILD APPLAUSE!
DR. HARTLEY
Who or what is "Anora"?
CHRIS
It's the movie that pretty much sweeps the Academy Awards in 2025: Best Picture, Best Actress, Best Director...
CICELY
Here it comes...
DR. HARTLEY
Here what comes?
CICELY
He's going to tell you it was all stolen from him--
DR. HARTLEY
Is that true Mr. Reidy?
CHRIS
I told you. I eschew that word. But let me ask you a question.
DR. HARTLEY
Okay.
CHRIS
Do you think these two women look alike?
Chris pulls two photographs out of his robe and holds them up:
Well, you know how they have like, talking computers and news on screens and giant TV's and robot vacuum cleaners?
ALL
Uhh-huh, yes, sure, you bet...etc.
CHRIS
Well, that stuff all comes true, more or less by my time. And not only that; but the computers start to get real savvy and figure out what you're interested in: your likes. Your wants and needs. And they start tailoring what they show to you. A kind of bespoke information stream. So, it's as though the media of my time keeps showing me stuff that reminds me of other stuff...
DR. HARTLEY
What kind of stuff?
CHRIS
The kind of stuff I create; as a creative person. I'm a writer and despite Miss Davis' claims that I suffer from paranoia; I seem to see a lot of my work come to fruition at the hands of other people.
DR. HARTLEY
At the hands of other people. That's quite poetic. But you mean stealing, yes?
CHRIS
I eschew that word.
MR. CARLIN
Oh, don't be such a pussy!
Sebastian the cat LAUGHS his hissy laugh.
DR. HARTLEY
Mr. Carlin; I thought we talked about this.
MR. CARLIN
Oh, come on Dr. Hartley. It's true. He wouldn't say shit if he had a mouthful of it. I know, let's write a haiku for him!
(Counts off syllables on fingers):
Crazy man sits here
Puffing on a cigarette
Not admitting truth
CHRIS
What is the truth any more? 1984 is now a handbook; not a warning. We've all fallen down to fucking Wonderland; so my truth is my truth; but why should anyone believe me if objective truth is now just a notion?
DR. HARTLEY
Who is "anyone"?
BETTE
For him, anyone is "no one"; since nobody reads this but him. (To Chris) Sorry dear; but I have to be honest.
The Frog Footman and the Fish Footman from Wonderland come into the room. The Frog Footman holds a giant envelope.
FISH FOOTMAN
The envelope please...
FROG FOOTMAN
If you please; the envelope.
The Frog hands the the envelope to the Fish who opens it and removes the card.
FISH
And the winner is...
FROG
(Looks at card) And the winner is: Anora.
WILD APPLAUSE!
DR. HARTLEY
Who or what is "Anora"?
CHRIS
It's the movie that pretty much sweeps the Academy Awards in 2025: Best Picture, Best Actress, Best Director...
CICELY
Here it comes...
DR. HARTLEY
Here what comes?
CICELY
He's going to tell you it was all stolen from him--
DR. HARTLEY
Is that true Mr. Reidy?
CHRIS
I told you. I eschew that word. But let me ask you a question.
DR. HARTLEY
Okay.
CHRIS
Do you think these two women look alike?
Chris pulls two photographs out of his robe and holds them up:
CHRIS
Well?
Dr. Hartley CLEARS HIS THROAT and shifts in his chair.
CFR 3/21/25
Please see: TOUGH LOVE IN NEW CANAAN Part 2 for next installment.
Well?
Dr. Hartley CLEARS HIS THROAT and shifts in his chair.
CFR 3/21/25
Please see: TOUGH LOVE IN NEW CANAAN Part 2 for next installment.