by Professor Zorkophsky, ©2023
(Mar. 28, 2023) — [Professor Zorkophsky is a well-known author of textbooks for the amateur psychologist and the award-winning producer of “The Dandelion War,” one man’s fight to remain an individual.]
As the curtain rises, the house lights dim to the tune of ‘Moon River’ (3:51); the stage is revealed as a row of stores, circa 1870, any Old West town, USA, seen from the back of the stores, with the sidewalk on the other side of the backdrop. The saloon is stage right; next are the barber shop and the bank. Last, on stage left, is a woman’s haberdashery. All the stores have customers, but only the saloon is lit.
Bartender: “What’ll it be, Sam, the usual?”
Sam: “No, better make it a double of something or other, thank you.”
Man on stool: “Bad day?”
Sam: “We’re feeling the conclusion of the ‘War Between the States,’ which was really the ‘War Between States’ Rights and the Federal Government Intrusion.’ Someday the Feds will mandate us into some bad quicksand; mark my words.”
Another man on stool: “But I thought the Civil War was about slavery.”
Bartender: “I’m sorry; we don’t allow idiots in this establishment; you’ll have to leave.”
Another man on stool: “But what did I say?”
Sam: “Look, slavery was on the way out, war or no war: it just wasn’t profitable anymore; simple economics rules the roost; remember that. Obey the bartender and out you go.”
As ‘Another man on stool’ goes out the backdrop door the lights go out in the saloon while the lights go on in the bank. The bank is crowded with lines at every teller. The bank manager steps out from his office and addresses the patrons.
Bank manager: “Now there’s no reason to withdraw all your money, now, is there? This is a good bank; we’re not ‘woke’ and do not support the stolen election. We don’t have ‘Queer Shows’ or any other such nonsense.”
Suddenly, the seven people line in front of teller #3 break into dance and song.
“The Bonnie Blue Flag” (1:54)
As the song ends the lights go out in the bank as the lights go on in the woman’s haberdashery. The shop is occupied by a few women, mostly trying on hats.
Maude: “Why, Eunice, that looks nice on you.”
Eunice: “Why, thank you, Maude. I see our country going to the dogs, is what I see. The federal government is overstepping is what I think. I’d like to try on the one with the bunnies and eggs next if that’s all right.”
Maude: “Do you really think we’re going to the dogs?”
Eunice: “Don’t tell anyone, but Great-Great-Grandpa Henry says to buy guns and ammo because we’re going downhill every day. Heck, there’s talk about starting some sort of Federal Reserve Bank, if you can believe that.”
Maude: “Is that the bank that won’t allow any public audits, even though it’s our money?”
Eunice: “Won’t be any of ‘our’ money, will it?”
Maude: “It’s backed by silver now; what do you think it’ll be backed by in the future?”
Eunice: “Intentions; fiat money; paper money with nothing to back it, if you can believe that.”
The lights go out in the haberdashery while the lights go on in the barber shop. There are two chairs, occupied, and a couple of elderly men waiting in chairs barber shop right.
First chair: “You say Sam kicked you out?”
Another man on stool: “Eighty-sixxed me on the spot. I just said I thought the Civil War was about slavery, is all.”
Second chair: “The war was waning, people were bored and tired of seeing cripples all over the place. Lincoln had to do something to keep the fighting spirit up, so he emancipated them in the name of the Constitution. Clever move, I’d give him that.”
Barber: “And it worked.”
First chair: “Lee almost won it all at Gettysburg, it was that close.”
Barber: “Very true. I was there, with the Michigan Volunteers. We could have easily lost as won, it was that close. Quite amazing how little mistakes can add up or how one man’s courage can sweep through the line. I lost my hearing for over a month and was blind for three; you know, smoke from the gunpowder. Hell on earth and then, that night, the moaning and groaning all through the valley, one large sound, Yanks and Rebels making one sound. And then, about 3:00 in the morning, all you could hear was the cries for water and I’ve been thirsty ever since.”
First chair: “Lot of good men died, on both sides. I hold no grudge against any of them, but you’d think that the federal government could have handled it better than they did. All started with a bunch of drunks firing on Fort Sumpter. The whole thing could’ve been avoided if you ask me.”
Barber: “And all those who were maimed, and for what?”
Another man on stool: “What do you mean?”
Barber: “I mean when diplomacy fails, the hardliners always seem to come out of the woodwork. You know the ones: the profiteers who’ll never fire a shot but will always be on the sidelines cheering as the boys go marching off to war.”
First chair: “The crime of war is that it isn’t fought by old men.”
Another man on stool: “I’ll drink to that.”
First chair: “And we’ll all join you, son. Spread the word: we’ll all meet at the saloon.”
Lights go out in the barber shop. The next light to go on is in the packed saloon with all the actors from all the establishments. Above the bar is a big sign that reads, “WE WILL TRIUMPH,” but as the saloon fills the sign gets wrinkled and squashed so all that is left is “TRUMP.” Everyone is chattering and passing beer mugs back and forth.
Sam: “I propose a toast.”
Calls of “Here, here” and “Quiet, let Sam speak” are heard. Sam stands and addresses the packed house.
Sam: “O Lord, we thank Thee for letting us spout off, and we thank Thee for America and her Constitution, that’s for sure.”
Calls of “Amens” echo throughout the room.
Sam: “Just sayin’, if we don’t stick together all those fine young men will have died in vain; ain’t that right?”
Catcalls of “You tell ‘em, Sam” are heard.
Sam: “It all goes back to the Constitution. That’s it; without it we don’t have a country. We may be a cry in the wilderness, but a Patriot’s stand must start somewhere at some time, and this-here saloon is as good a place as any. We beseech you in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
“Amens” throughout the saloon and then they all burst into song.
“Marching Song as the First Arkansas” (3:03)
As the song comes to an end, the saloon lights dim and the house lights brighten as the curtain comes down.
FINI