Trudy's Monologues

I don't know how many people are familiar with "The Search For Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe" by Jane Wagner, but since I referred to it in my last post, I thought I would excerpt a couple of monologues from it. Trudy is a bag lady and this is how she spends her days. It is hilarious. Of course, it's best when you can watch Lily Tomlin perform it.



Trudy: Now, since I put reality on the backburner, my days are jam-packed and fun filled. Like some days, I go hang out around seventh avenue; I love to do this old joke: I wait for some music-loving tourist from one of the hotels on Central Park to go up and ask someone "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?" Then I run up and yell, "PRACTICE!". The expression on peoples' faces is priceless. I never could have done that stuff whe I was in my right mind. I'd be worried people would think I was crazy. When I think of all the fun I missed, I try not to be bitter. See, the human mind is like a...pinata. When it breaks open, theres a lot of surprises inside. Once you get in the pinata perspective, you see that losing your mind can be a peak experience. I was not always a bag lady, you know. I used to be a creative consultant. For big companies! Who do you think thought up the color scheme for Howard Johnson's? At the time, no one was using orange and aqua in the same room together. With fried clams.The only idea I'm proud of - my umbrella hat. Protects me against sunstroke, rain and muggers. For some reason, muggers steer clear of people wearing umbrella hats. Ever since my shock treatments I started having these time-space continum shifts, I guess you'd call it. Suddenly, it was like my central nervous system had a patio addition out back. Not only do I have a linkup to extraterrestrial channels, I also got a hookup with humanity as a whole. Animals and plants too. I used to talk to plants all the time. Then one day, they started talking back. They said, "Trudy, shut up!"


Trudy: Here we are standing on the corner of "Walk, Don't Walk." You look away from me, trying not to catch my eye, but you didn't turn fast enough, did you? I know what you're thinkin'; You're thinkin' I'm crazy. You think I give a hoot? You people look at my shopping bags, call me crazy 'cause I collect this junk. What should we call the ones who buy it?It's my belief we all, one time or another secretly ask ourselves the question, "Am I crazy?" In my case the answer came back: A resounding YES! The symptoms are subtle but unmistakable to the trained eye. For instance, here I am standing at the corner of "walk, don't walk" waiting for these aliens from outer space to show up. I call that crazy don't you? If I were sane, I would be waiting for the light like everyone else. They're late, as usual. You'd think, as much as they know about time travel, they could be on time once in a while. I could kick myself. I told them I'd meet 'em on the corner of "walk, Dont walk" 'round lunchtime. Do they even know what lunch means? I doubt it.When they get here they'll probably be dying to know what "lunchtime" means and when they find out it means going to Howard Johnson's for fried clams, I wonder, will they be a bit let down?I dread having to explain tartar sauce.