by Henry, ©2025
(Aug. 9, 2025) — ACT I
As the house lights dim, the curtain rises to the music of “Chopin’s Prelude in A major, Op. 28 #7” (1:15) to the stage set as a pond covered with lily pads, the one in the center higher than the others. Each pad has frogs on it. The dashing frogs are dressed like members of Congress, which they are, in a way. The center frog stands and addresses the meeting.
“Friends, we are gathered here today to discuss the important points of life.”
Sounds of frog murmurings (soft guttural croaks).
“Please pay attention.”
One frog catcalls out, “We already paid ten bucks for a seat.” Another calls out, “And $5 for parking.”
“Please, polite frogs, allow me to make my case. More wars and strife have been fought over potable water than for any other reason. Without fresh water, our goose is cooked.”
A bunch of frogs call out, “We’re all cooked.” One frog shouts, “Is this the time for the French frog joke?”
“Please, pleasant frogs, hear me out. They talk about global warming as the insecticide and pesticide runoff poison our water, from streams to aquifers. The Mediterranean is becoming a cesspool. Soon the oceans will follow. We don’t have to worry about any climate change; pollution will kill us all.”
Some frogs catcall, “We already know that; we’re frogs.”
“That’s quite correct; we do know it but the bipeds don’t. Now listen to my proposal: the United Nations is nothing more than a ‘Muslim Admiration Society.’ We should quit the UN and focus our attention on abolishing clear-cutting and pollution. Clear-cutting increases water runoff, while pollution affects our health, longevity and the well-being of our DNA. At this time, we’ll pause for intermission.”
ACT II
The house lights brighten as the curtain is lowered to the music of “Liszt Consolation No 2 in E Major” (3:35). As the music ends, the house lights dim while the curtain rises to the stage set as the water/soft- drink aisle in your local supermarket. A few frogs are pushing shopping carts.
“I say, Eleanor, we never had bottled water when I was growing up.”
“Never had bottled water?”
“Never. It was faucet or hose.”
“Faucet or hose?”
“And then they started adding stuff.”
“Adding stuff?”
“That’s right. First it was fluoride and then other stuff.”
“Other stuff?”
“That’s right, until it got so bad that people needed bottled water in order to stay alive and healthy. People paid taxes so the government could poison them.”
“No way.”
“If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’. This aisle is the proof.”
“I see, but this couldn’t’ve happened overnight; it had to take time.”
“And it took time, a long time; years.”
“And here we are, in the bottled water aisle. Unbelievable the subtle intrusion of the harmful chemicals into our bodies. It would have been good for us all if a goldfish were treated like a puppy. People wouldn’t have brought home a puppy if they let it loose in the house and it died, but that’s what would happen to a goldfish. Bring it home, drop it in a bowl of ‘fresh water from the kitchen sink’ and in no time, bottom’s up. Dead as a doornail.”
ACT III
The house light brightens as the curtain lowers to “Haydn’s Allegro in F Major, No. 2” (1:19). Then the house lights dim as the curtain rises to the stage set as a Great Hall of a medieval castle at banquet time; table in a giant ‘U’ with the center table raised on a dais. The frogs along the wall are in suits of armor holding pikes. There is flute music, “Kuhlau fantasy for flute solo op. 38 D major” (3:38), and all is festive, dogs running and barking; everyone is laughing.
“Your attention, if you please. Our moat is unworthy of our tadpoles; what to do?”
A frog catcalls out from a lower side table, “Add fluoride!”
“Let’s be serious, but first, how ‘bout a little entertainment?”
A whole lot of clapping and cheering are heard as the “Lady Frog Can- Can Troupe” (1:09) enters from stage left, does its dance, and exits stage right.
“Thank you, ladies. Mindless, petty annoyances plague frogs worldwide, of this I assure you. It’s a mental condition* that, in the future, will be embraced by the gullible to be exploited by the unethical. Turning one’s back on one’s kingdom, place of birth, or country will be accepted as mainstream. It will, in short, be a different world where humans will be their own worst enemy and we frogs, or at least our offspring, will suffer the consequences of ignorance, stupidity and unpatriotic behavior never seen in the annuals of mankind.
“I see some of you listen to what I say with a degree of disbelief. Beware, the tide is turning, and it may yet be too late to stem the intrusion of unwanted outcomes. There may come a time when he who sits at the head of the river will be king, for isn’t it true that he who controls fresh water is rich beyond avariciousness, which is greed taken to the end. It’s true, fresh water is more valuable than gold; trouble is, many of us don’t know it yet. We’ll end up traveling to the stars in search of pure fresh water because we will have polluted all of it on earth.
“Will the resident fortuneteller please step forward? Hello. This is Maiden Shylock who foretells future events with surprising accuracy. Tell us, if you will, what’s in store for us future frogs?”
“Oh, honored King, forgive me for prophesizing dire warnings, but you said it yourself, bad events creeping in presumably unnoticed but not to all. We see a little pollution here and there while the masses don’t see diddly. We see the expansion of self-destructive philosophies while our fellow citizens continuously turn a blind eye to the facts before them. Tommy Robinson of England is telling the truth, but the English can’t handle the truth.”
“Now ain’t that the truth? Thank you, Maiden Shylock. Well, you all heard it from the horse’s mouth: we either get with the program, or our species will, inevitably, eventually come to a crossroads where one more straw will announce THE END; no turning back; no ‘fixing the problem’ because, by then, it’ll be too late. So, go ahead, clear-cut for a house, apartment complex, whatever: leave no stone unturned, no tree uncut.”
“And so, the merriment ends, and I thank you one and all for sharing this delightful evening. We learned to beware of anything related to clear-cutting and whatever is ‘creeping’ in our lives — which are way too many, I’m sure. Too many ‘creeps’ is something to ponder, for sure.
“And now I bid you all adieu. Please join our minstrels in singing our fair-thee-well song as you exit the hall. Godspeed.”
The house lights brighten as the curtain is lowered.
“Oh Danny Boy” (3:45)
[*Mental condition: TDS: ‘Trump Derangement Syndrome.’]
FINI