Betty Hutton

Betty Hutton (February 26, 1921 – March 11, 2007)

 

There was a hole. In the backyard. Where Betty buried her secret. A girlish delight. We’ll dig it up when we are much older. Hope shivered. In her bony legs. The little kid called ‘Tackspitter’. Sang for bleeding thumbs. Repentant saints. Biblical scum. Here that slap. Windshield wipers. And the sweet police.  Grabbing Betty’s mother’s. Ass. Escorting the family. Out of town. Like it was an apple. And they were the worm. They would sing. Hoping to embarrass good fortune. ‘Don’t say goodbye. Just say until we meet again.’

Ceiling fans. Chopped up her name. Liverwurst. Betty became. The high priestess of frenzy. Jitterbugging. Thrashed around so violently. Orgasm in the orchestra pit. The drummer sued her for assault. Her lover confessed. It was too much. Too much of the same old shit. But Betty had a miracle. It was hidden in her secret.

Indian owner Bill Veeck held funeral services to bury the 1948 pennant. Christine Jorgenson. Went under the knife. The 1st person to undergo a sex-change operation. Betty’s mother bought Clarence Birdseye 1^st bag of frozen peas. And chipped her tooth.

On Broadway. On radio. In Hollywood. In movies. Where does she get all that energy? Success was satin sheets. Soiled. Cigarette veneer. Stains on the lamp shades. And that pool. Shaped like a kidney. Dr. Caligari’s cabinet. Without the cure.

Oh God! Let me fall in love! Some words sound better in music. Bouncing Betty. From lap to lap. Let’s call some friends, and have a party! Marriage. Kids. Sleeping pills. Divorce. Life moves so fast. When you’re never around.

On her knees weeping in the shower. The water swirling so perfectly down the drain. Down and out as the jitterbug Detroit juke box queen. On the sticky floors in the local music hall. Down with feathers & tears and a local boy. His future choking your throat. Down the paint red ran. In the long halls of miserable hotels. Painted so garish. On Avenue Marlene. Down in the kitchen. In St. Jude Parish. Patron saint of the hopeless. On her knees before her broken hearted lovers. Weeping in her tower. Down lip stick smeared. Across painted skin. Where was her secret buried? 86’d. Daddy ran off with suicide. Mommy ran a speak easy for the dead. None of Betty’s kids showed up. At the funeral…

 

The Seduction (Chapter 26, Lou Grant)

26.

The Seduction

Ted stepped onto to the balcony of Mary’s apartment and looked out from the seventh floor window over the ravine and city skyline. The city lights were smeared on the sky like pastels on purple satin. Across the ravine stood the dark shell of the Forester building, derelict for years since it had been condemned by the city then abandoned by its owner.

Ted returned to the bar and made a drink for Mary and himself. Returning to the couch he placed the drinks on a coffee table. His eyes toured the room, tastefully decorated in the fashion of a magazine layout.  Ted liked that. Character meant chaos and Ted preferred order. Mary returned to the living room, having changed into a nightgown, a dark purple lace gown that trailed along the floor, falling loosely over her shoulders. Ted swallowed deeply, the bouquet from his cognac rising up his nostrils and filling his eyes with tears.

Ted couldn’t keep his eyes off Mary as she stepped across the room to put on some music, Nat King Cole in concert. The lights were dimmed. Ted got up to refill his glass. When her returned, Mary was waiting, sitting on the couch, her gown revealing a bare knee, her chest heaving, her eyes dark and liquid, her lips open in a smile. Ted sat down beside her.

“I find the people in the Blue Lagoon so interesting.” Mary spoke softly, sipping at her glass of white wine. “They live lives I would never have the courage to pursue. Outside convention. Impulsive. Passionate. Living on the wild side. Don’t you ever have a desire to step over the line, Ted?”

“Step over the line, Mar? I mean, what are lines put there for?”

Mary placed her hand on Ted’s knee. Ted swallowed deeply.

“You know what I hate about public speaking, Mar? I never know where to put my hands.”

Mary took one of Ted’s hands and placed it on her breast. “How’s that, Ted?”

MURRAY: I think I’m going to be sick, Lou.

LOU GRANT: Hang on. I’m sure this is going nowhere. You know Ted, Murray. You think that he’s Mary’s type?

MURRAY: God, I hope not.

Mary put her drink down on the table, then leaned over and kissed Ted on the lips. The drink in Ted’s hand began to shake. Mary reached for the belt on Ted’s trousers and undid it.

Ted squeezed his glass, his hand shaking.

“I’m sorry, Mary!”

Ted bolted to his feet.

“God, I’m not very good at these things. I shouldn’t have come up! I know I’m not going to sleep tonight. I like you, Mary, but I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression… I want our relationship to remain professional. Strictly personal! I mean… Lou’s got a rule about fraternizing with the staff. Too many complications. Lou would kill me!”

Mary reached over for Ted who pulled away.

“Mar!” Ted cried, jumping back. “Tomorrow we’ll laugh about this. Jesus, I better get going. You’re not angry at me, Mar, are you?”

Ted walked quickly toward the door.

“I’ll let myself out,” he said, and was gone.

MURRAY: Oh my God!

LOU GRANT laughing: I told you nothing would happen. That’s our Ted.

MURRAY: You’ve got to promise me something, Lou.

LOU GRANT: What?

MURRAY: Don’t ever do that to me again.

LAUGH TRACK

Trailing the Mercedes (Chapter 25, Lou Grant)

25.

Trailing the Mercedes

The Mercedes slowed down and slid into the circular driveway in front of a modest six-floor apartment building. The cab pulled over to the side of the road. The driver took out several sticks of gum and stuffed them into his mouth. I took out a package of cigarettes and lit one up. After getting out of the Mercedes, Sue Ann waved good-bye to Ted and Mary, and then walked quickly to the front door. A minute later she was inside. Ted slid the Mercedes slowly back into the Yonge Street traffic.

“We’ll give them some lead time.” The cab driver glanced over at me. “Don’t want to raise their suspicions.” He had an accent, but I couldn’t quite make it out.

The cab driver moved into traffic then slowed down, allowing another car to pull in between him and the Mercedes.

“He knows we’re following him.”

“What?” I cried.

“Don’t fall asleep on me.” The driver laughed.

The cab driver giggled. I don’t like that in a cab driver. And he had trouble finishing a sentence.

The Mercedes pulled off onto some side streets, finally heading north up Russell Hill Road. When the Mercedes reached St. Clair, it turned west. A few minutes later Ted made a u-turn and pulled over to the side of the road. The cab continued up St. Clair for a while before pulling over to the curb. I looked back. Mary and Ted stepped out of the car and walked up a gravel path toward a fashionable apartment building.

“Looks like they’re home.” The driver’s gum snapped. “Although I’m not sure where home is. Don’t recognize the bloody street. You know where we are?”

I looked at the cabbie. He was lost. How do you become a cabbie and get lost? And then admit it to a customer?

“We’ll wait.”

I rolled down the window and flicked my cigarette out. I could smell the dampness of the night. The asphalt sucked up the blackness. The branches of trees hung slovenly over the sidewalks.

“You mind if I listen to the ball game?” the cabbie asked. “The Jays are playing the Twins.”

We waited three innings. It was a pitching duel.

“What the hell! God damn Blue Jays!” The cabbie slapped the steering wheel. He switched channels. Country music. Someone was cheatin’ on someone. And feeling bad about it.

Ted Slipped A Cassette Into the Recorder (Chapter 24, Lou Grant)

24.

Ted Slipped a Cassette Into the Recorder

Ted Baxter slipped a cassette into the recorder, the back of his hand casually rubbing against the side of Mary Richard’s leg. Mary moved her leg closer to Ted’s hand. Sue Ann Nivens sat in the back seat, chattering away. Neither Ted nor Mary paid much attention to her. Sinatra’s voice seeped out of the speakers. Ted’s free hand caressed Mary’s dress. Mary swallowed, glancing down at Ted’s hand.

“I love Sinatra,” Sue Ann sighed. “Mother used to tell me about what a big star he was. Scrawny little fellow. The bobby-sockers would swoon over him. What a reputation he had with the ladies? Maybe that was part of his attraction. I saw him on television a couple of weeks ago. Still in good voice though he doesn’t walk so well. Didn’t exactly take it easy in his time. Supposed to have been involved with gangsters. I can’t imagine why. What would they have to talk about?”

Ted looked in the rear view mirror.

“What do you see?” Mary asked.

“A yellow cab,” Ted responded. “I could swear it’s been following us.”

“Oh, how exciting!” Sue Ann squealed remembering her late husband Frank and his BMW. The two of them flying along the expressway. And her mother sitting at home, biting her nails. And her sister stewing in their bedroom, blaming Sue Ann for the new curfew inflicted on both sisters because Sue Ann was still out carousing when she should have been home. And her and Frank parking in lover’s lane. And Sue Ann laughing and her hair thrown back, her arms and legs wrapped around Frank as she wrote poems in her head about how fast love seems to pass through us.

“I hope someone is following us. Mystery is life’s greatest spice.”

MURRAY: What’s going on between Mary and Ted?

LOU GRANT: What do you mean?

MURRAY: You know what I mean, Lou.

LOU GRANT: Okay. I don’t have as much control over this thing as I should.

MURRAY: Ted put you up to that, didn’t he?

LOU GRANT: Don’t be ridiculous. It just popped into my head. It’s the scotch.

MURRAY: What ever he gave you, Lou, I’ll double it.

LAUGH TRACK

Follow That Car (Chapter 23, Lou Grant)

23.

Follow That Car

It had rained out. Streetlights splattered on the sweating asphalt. It looked like one of those tacky paintings of a Paris street. I stood in my overcoat underneath the awning outside the bar. Waiting. For what, I had no idea.

It was still raining. A streetcar rang its bell. And thundered by. Newspapers that had been blowing about on the street now, wet, wallpapered the sidewalks. Teenage girls in football jackets over their heads, giggled as they raced down the avenue. I wish I owned a gun.

Mary Richards and her friends came out of the Blue Lagoon. Huddled under two umbrellas. Laughing. Sue Ann screeched as the group made a mad dash across Church Street to the parking lot next to Gatsby’s Steak House.

I pulled my collar up. Rain dripped off my hair, and the tip of my nose and chin. From the bar, you could hear music playing. Billy Joel’s Piano Man. A white van raced up the street. I lost sight of the WTM crowd. The van passed. They were piling two cars. Doors slammed. Mary had climbed into the silver Mercedes with Sue Ann and Ted. Lou and Rhoda continued on through the lot until they reached Rhoda’s red Rabbit. The Mercedes moved slowly across the lot, beeped its horn once and then stopped in front of the attendant’s booth. Windshield wipers kept slapping. The muted siren from a window lowering. Voices. A ticket receipt.

I stepped out to the curb and haled a cab. I don’t know why. Maybe I was bored. I haled a cab. One passed me. A second. The Mercedes had already moved up the street. Stopped at a traffic light. A cab pulled over to the curb.

“Follow that Mercedes,” I said to the driver.

MURRAY:  Wait a minute, Lou.

LOU GRANT: I was on a roll here, Murray.

MURRAY: There were two Lou Grants in the bar.

LOU GRANT: Ya?

MURRAY: Isn’t there some kind of rule about that? Some kind of temporal disruption. That changes everything in the future.

LOU GRANT: Like hair loss?

LAUGH TRACK

MURRAY: Okay. So there’s a big storm. Lightning and thunder. Why would you do that in your own dream? Why not have a warm pleasant evening. Shirt sleeve weather.

LOU GRANT: You might be right about that. I didn’t have an umbrella. Could have caught a cold.

MURRAY: You can catch a cold in a dream?

LOU GRANT: Maybe.  Do you know how you catch a cold?

Mary’s Proposal (Chapter 22, Lou Grant)

22.

Mary’s Proposal

“I’ve been lucky.” Mary addressed her friends seated around the table. Everyone stopped talking and turned their attention to her. “I know that. Things have a way of falling into place for me. People like me.”

“They adore you, Mary.” Sue Ann gritted her teeth in a smile. And in an aside to Ted who wasn’t listening, “God, is she going to go on like this all night?”

“They do, Sue Ann.” Mary nodded her head in appreciation. “I’m not saying I deserve it, but people go out of their way for me. Sue Ann taught me how to cook. She didn’t have to. She just jumped right in and took over.”

“Well.” Sue Ann giggled. “We didn’t want the Board of Health to shut down your kitchen.”

“And Ted.” Mary turned to Ted who smiled, waiting for his accustomed accolades. “Ted got me a bargain on a vintage Ford Pinto. I know nothing about cars but Ted walked into the used car lot and put his fist down.”

“Gee, Mary.” Ted blushed. “You’re embarrassing me. Keep going.”

LAUGH TRACK

“And Mr. Grant took a chance on a kid who was so green behind the knees.”

“Ears, Mary,” Lou responded. “You’re green behind your ears.”

“Not anymore Lou. I’ve learned so much.” Mary turned to Murray who sat beside  her and put her hand on his knee. “Murray found my apartment and taught me how to play poker.”

“We played for toothpicks!” Murray cried in his defense.

Mary pointed across the table at Rhoda. “That’s my best friend, Rhoda.” Rhoda began to shrink. Don’t do this to me, Mary. “Rhoda has always had a free shoulder for me to cry upon. She’s taught me not to give up and how to get up when I’ve been knocked down, and always to keep laughing, and…”

Rhoda started to weep. Sue Ann glanced at her. “Give me a break!”

Mary took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s been like that since I was a youngster and I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but my life has become… boring. Everyone is very sweet and generous. Everyday at the office is lovely, amusing, fun, but… it’s always the same. Everyone is the same. Ted, you’re always charming. Mr. Grant is grumpy but loveable. Sue Ann is respectable and kind. Murray is helpful. Rhoda, well Rhoda is always there for me. I said that before, didn’t I?”

“Ya, Mary!” Rhoda responded. “Come up with some new material.”

LAUGH TRACK

“But.” Mary sighed. “None of you ever change. No matter what happens on Friday, the next Monday morning, you’re absolutely the same. No problem is so serious that there isn’t something amusing about it. It’s like a sitcom. I swear I can hear the laugh track. No one is vicious, mean, madly passionate or dangerous. Am I the only one who has noticed? I can’t stand it anymore. It isn’t real.”

There was a long pregnant pause. Outside the clouds were smothering the sun. Night was rising like smoke from its ashes. Ted cleared his throat. Lou tucked his tie into his trousers. Sue Ann smiled. Rhoda held her stomach in.

“Did everyone like my show today?” Sue Ann piped up. “I thought my tribute to Chinese cuisine was quite clever. The Twenty Minute Wok Out.”

“Oh, ya!” Ted started to laugh. “I just got it.”

No one else responded. There was a crack in the timber of the sky. The sky lit up like a flash on a camera. Lovers trembled naked in their raincoats. Heart attack victims were stripped of their pride. Sunbathers pretended that they’re wearing sunglasses. The streetcars began to sing, One more night. And still there was silence at the table.

“So, Mary.” Lou Grant smirked glancing around the table before lighting on Mary. “Why exactly did you bring us here?

“Oh, Mr. Grant.” Mary shrugged off Lou’s question with a giggle. “You’re always looking for an ulterior motive.”

“We’re waiting, Mary.”

Mary looked around the bar, passed her friends and right at me sitting there nursing a beer. But she didn’t see a thing. I didn’t exist. I was invisible. Like when she’s looking in the mirror and notices that her skin has begun to turn to putty. Like the face cream she smears on her forehead and cheeks and breasts. Like the poems that melt like chocolate in her mouth.

“Don’t you just love this place?” Sue Ann piped up. “The first time I stepped in to use the little girl’s room, I fell in love. It looks so lived in. And look at the clientele. What characters!”

“Hookers, pimps, gamblers,” Lou snarled, “and us, the staff of the local news. But let Mary finish.”

“Sue Ann is right.” Mary added.

“I am?” Sue Ann gasped. “I thought I was being facetious.”

“Another dodo?” Ted laughed.

“Don’t you see it, Mr. Grant?” Mary pleaded.

Lou growled as he glanced around the room. “Bunch of lay-abouts, wasting away in a bar. Not unlike most people in bars. Half of them are trying to forget about today. The other half are afraid of tomorrow. Just what a bar was designed for. Home sweet home.”

Mary looked despondent as she addressed her boss. “Aren’t you interested in these people, Mr. Grant? What kind of lives they live? How they make their living? What their interests are, their dreams, their ambitions? These are the ones who make the news; we just report it. We are the scavengers. These are the glorious beasts of the hunt.”

My drink began to taste… sweet. God. I pushed it away. And ordered another.

Lou turned to Ted. “What the hell is Mary talking about?”

Ted smiled charmingly, and then shrugged his shoulders. He was bewildered.

“I’m in the dark too, Lou.” Ted grinned.

“Thanks, Ted.” Lou responded sarcastically. “I knew I could count on your support.”

“Strange bedfellows.” Rhoda mumbled. Got to keep my mouth shut. How can Mary be so innocent? Think about something else. A man’s unshaven face scratching the back of my knees. No! His beer breathe on my neck. No! Got to get these images out of my head. Hands on my hips softly shaking… No. Oh God.  Too many mornings of regrets and bad breathe and trips to the toilet. Maybe Mary is right. Maybe love is sweet. Maybe life is a flower opening up… No! Did I say that out loud. No one is looking at me. I hate this. Hate being me. Why do I have to know the truth?

“I was thinking.” Mary hesitated.

Everyone looked at Mary.

“A dangerous and addictive habit.” Rhoda muttered than almost apologized.

Sue Ann glared at Rhoda and placed her finger in front of her lips.

“I knew it!” Lou cried, smacking his hand on the table.

Sue Ann jumped.

Lou continued. “I knew there was a hidden agenda. Do I know human nature? You don’t spend thirty years in…”

“Bars…” Rhoda interjected.

“…in a newsroom.” Lou scowled as he looked at Rhoda then turned his attention back to the rest of the table. “You don’t spend all those years in a newsroom without learning something about human nature.”

“Mr. Grant, hear me out.” Lou continued to smile. Mary cleared her throat. “I thought we might do a series of investigative reports on the city’s underworld. Not organized crime or biker gangs, but the lower end of the criminal ladder. Small time criminals. Salt of the earth criminals. Gamblers, hustlers, pimps and hookers, pushers and thieves. The public is curious about how these people survive, what they do, what they’re like, where they come from…”

“How they make love?” Rhoda added. If Sue Ann says something I’m going to punch her lights out.

Sue Ann smirked. You’re such a slut?

Rhoda smiled at Sue Ann then winked. Why do I have to be such a smart ass? Why do I have to have these thoughts racing through my head. I didn’t ask for them.

Ted turned to Rhoda. “How do they make love, Rhoda?” Ted chuckled and then asked sincerely. “Is it really… different?”

Rhoda smiled. “Different than you, Ted, They don’t do it alone.”

“OH!” Ted laughed heartily as he thought over what Rhoda had just said. He rubbed his chin with his fingers, thought again, and then glared at Rhoda from beneath his eyebrows. “Wait a minute!”

LAUGH TRACK

“So charming and yet so cruel,” Sue Ann giggled.

“Thank you.” Rhoda bowed. “I knew I could count on your support.”

“You mean to say, Mary.” Ted spoke and then hesitated, waiting for everyone’s attention to fall his way. When it did not he cleared his throat and spoke with the force of his newscaster’s voice. “Mary!”

Mary looked up. “Yes, Ted.”

“Do you mean to say that the suburban crowd wants to sit back in their lazy boys and live the dangers of crime…” Ted hesitated so that he could pronounce each syllable of vicariously individually. “…vi-car-ri-ous-slee?”

Lou’s mouth fell open with shock. His eyes lid up.

Mary nodded. “That’s exactly it. Thank you, Mr. Baxter.”

Ted smiled and looked around the table for his accolades.

“Give it a rest, Ted,” Murray responded.

“I think it’s a marvelous idea,” Sue Ann piped up. “I know it would go over with my girls at the noon hour. We could have some criminals on my show to demonstrate their favorite recipes. Al Capone made wonderful pasta. And we can’t forget Eggs Bennedict.”

LAUGH TRACK

Lou choked on his scotch. Murray smacked him on the back. Lou glared at him.

“I thought you were choking, Lou.”

“I’m serious!” Sue Ann’s voice rose with her enthusiasm. “It would be great fun. I’ve always wondered how gangsters cooked. They have to watch their waistlines like the rest of us.”

LAUGH TRACK

Rhoda turned to Sue Ann. “You’re dangerous.”

“Exactly,” Lou asked turning to Mary, “how do you plan on going about this? These people are not exactly the type of folks who seek publicity for their work.”

“I’ll appeal to their vanity, Mr. Grant.” Mary smiled. “Everyone wants to be on television.”

Lou’s Cigar (Chapter 21, Lou Grant)

21.

Lou’s Cigar

SUE ANN: Don’t you love these anecdotes of Lou?

Sue Ann nodded toward Rhoda who was exercising her stomach muscles. She’d read about it in Cosmo. Do not waste any free moment. And so she exercised anytime she was sitting down and had nothing else to do. On the bus. Eating dinner. Watching television. And now here in this bar. Rhoda listened to Spanish lessons while she slept.

RHODA: They’re so revealing.

Lou looked around the table before he returned to Mary.

LOU: So why have you brought us here, Miss Richards?

Everyone at the table was smiling as broadly as Lou, waiting for Mary to respond. What silly idea had the young Miss Richards come up with this time? She was always so enthusiastic. Her ideas were like little balloons and everyone waiting for Lou to burst this one. Mary blushed, looking around the table at each face.

MARY: I don’t know what you can possibly be getting at Mr. Grant.

Lou Grant took out a cigar, than ransacked his pocket for a moment before finding his lighter. It was an odd sensation, watching yourself. Or some facsimile. I didn’t realize how clumsy I was. And, its difficult to admit, unattractive.

Sue Ann turned to Ted Baxter.

SUE ANN: Did you see that?

Ted smiled at Sue Ann. Ted was a poster of what God would look like if he had a better tailor. Ted had no idea what Sue Ann was talking about.

Sue Ann placed her hand on Ted’s sleeve. Ted’s heart rate climbed.

SUE ANN: Mary had that dear waiter eating out of her hand. She has such a spell over men, don’t you think, Ted? In a little girl sort of way. Appealing to the pedophile in every male. I’ve never seen anything like it.

TED: See what, Sue Ann?

SUE ANN: The waiter. You must have seen the way the waiter behaved. He was staring at Mary. You’d have thought that he had seen a vision.

TED: Some of us do have that effect on others.

LAUGH TRACK

Rhoda howled with laughter. Sue Ann looked at Rhoda with some concern. Then turned to Lou who was enjoying his cigar. A cloud of smoke lay siege on Sue Ann’s hair.

SUE ANN: Lou!

Lou smiled.

SUE ANN: Do you have to smoke that awful… thing? I wouldn’t allow my Frank to smoke those vile things in the house. The butts look like little puppy dodoes. Frank was always cooperative, always departed for the balcony when he felt the urge.

TED: The urge for anything in particular? Or just urges in general?

LAUGH TRACK

SUE ANN: In all the years we were married, Frank never once smoked in the apartment. Consideration! That’s what characterized Frank’s behavior, bless his heart. Gentlemanship begins with consideration for others.

RHODA: Consideration!

Rhoda howled with laughter, her chest shaking. Surreptitiously Ted glanced at her heaving mammaries.

I almost broke out laughing myself. But turned away and ordered another drink from Frank. Frank nodded toward the table in a gesture that meant he had made his own judgment on the sanity of his patrons.

RHODA: Sue Ann, Frank dropped dead in a funeral parlor.

SUE ANN: That’s how considerate he was.

Rhoda’s drink dribbled down her chin and onto her dress.

Sue Ann looked at Rhoda’s dress.

SUE ANN: That will come out with salt, dear. And you must try and control your braying. It attracts the wrong sort. But I’m sure you’ve been through that before.

Rhoda dropped her eyes.

LAUGH TRACK

Sue Ann padded Rhoda on the hand gently then turned back to Lou.

SUE ANN: Must you smoke, Lou? It’s not good for your health, or ours. Second hand smoke is responsible for twenty five point six percent of all lung cancer related deaths. And it is illegal to smoke in public accommodations. How can you expect our children to respect authority when you flaunt the very spirit of our legal system?

Lou shook in his chair with laughter. I shook with laughter at the bar.

LOU: Stupid law. Second hand smoke! Everything in life is second hand. Why should smoke be any different? Pretty soon they’ll pass a by-law against passing wind. Ted could end up doing hard time.

LAUGH TRACK

TED: I read that the pigment of the old masters is being affected by the passage of gas in museums.

SUE ANN: I didn’t know you frequented museums?

RHODA: I didn’t know he could read!

LAUGH TRACK

Lou grunted then took another puff of his cigar.

LOU: I like cigars, Sue Ann. I like them a great deal.

Lou exhaled a cloud of white smoke that drifted over Sue Ann’s head.

RHODA: They’ve elected a new pope.

LAUGH TRACK

Lou took his cigar out of his lips and looked at it lovingly.

LOU: Did you know that these cigars were rolled in the salty thighs of young virginal Cuban girls? Just the thought of it brings a smile to this old man’s lips.

RHODA: Pedophile.

Sue Ann’s face squirmed as she turned toward Rhoda.

SUE ANN: Don’t be so witty, dear. It isn’t feminine. Frank never liked witty women. Women should be sweet. Blossoms in a spring rain.

TED: You should eat more fruit, Sue Ann. Something has gotten stuck… up there.

Mary took a package of cigarettes out of her purse and lit one up. Lou grabbed the cigarette out of her hand.

LOU: You’ll ruin your voice!

MARY: But Mr. Grant, you’re smoking!

LOU: If I lose my voice, everyone in the office will be happier. I won’t be screaming at them.

RHODA: You’re acting like her father! Lou, you’re not Mary’s father.

LOU: I’m more important than her father! I’m her boss!

The Blue Lagoon (Chapter 17, Lou Grant)

17.

The Blue Lagoon

I sat sipping my drink. Scotch. Single malt. Not too bad either. A little over priced. I was watching Harry. Across the room. What a sleazy character. Even the way he moved. Made you want to take a shower. Like a snail he moved. Hunched over. Leaving a trail of slime behind him. Like some kind of peep show floor. He stopped at the bar. I looked at the blonde next to me. Sheila. (How did I know her name?) She and her friend continued their animated conversation. (I didn’t know her friend’s name. I’ll call her the brunette.) They were eating each other’s ears off. The kind of conversation that is filled with energy and little thought. I thought about my wife. Helen and I were like strangers to each other. Had been for many years. When the boys were young, there was so much noise in the house. It was like oxygen for us. And when they left, we suffocated. Or maybe we went deaf and dumb. Don’t think we ever talked about much of importance when we were young, but we liked the sound of each other’s voice. And Helen’s laugh. I loved to hear Helen laugh. She loved my jokes. Helen doesn’t laugh much anymore. I don’t know how it happened. Becoming a stranger to those you love. Maybe my jokes weren’t funny anymore. And then I found myself back in the backyard. Laying there. Frying in the noon day sun. Looking up at the blue sky. Hoping Helen would come out and find me. Save me. Sheila laughed. And I was back in the Blue Lagoon.

A Drink After Work At The Selby Hotel (Chapter 16, Lou Grant)

16.

A Drink After Work At The Selby Hotel

MURRAY: Michael. What’s he all about?

LOU: Who’s Michael?

MURRAY: You just told me about him, Lou.

LOU: You’re not messing with me, are you Murray?

MURRAY: Well, a bit. But you did bring up this fellow Michael.

LOU: I did?

MURRAY: You said that Harry was a bit of a sleaze, but this Michael was something else. A predator, I think you said.

LOU: A manipulator.

MURRAY: That’s the ticket.

LOU: Yes.

I began to engage in a conversation with Murray regarding someone I had never heard of before. Michael. As soon as I began to talk about him, he began to take shape in my mind. Words came out of my mouth like chunks of reality. Before that… nothing.

LOU: I know how to deal with sleaze. Been dealing with lawyers all my life, but someone like Michael, you don’t know where they’re coming from.

MURRAY: And you keep bringing Mary into the story. I don’t like that. If Mary knew that she was one of the central characters in your fantasies she’d be miffed.

LOU: You think I got something to say about all of this, Murray? Don’t look at me like that?

MURRAY: What! How am I looking at you?

LOU: Like I was some kind of… pervert.

MURRAY: Lou, they are your dreams.

LOU: Hey Murray, did I tell you this story that Gordo told me?

MURRAY: I’m not interested in Gordo’s cricket stories. I hate that game. They can play for days and score hundreds of points and still end up with a tied game. Tell me about Michael. And what he has to do with Mary.

LOU: At one time in the Netherlands tulip bulbs, not gold, was the standard for wealth. People invested huge fortunes in them. One guy invested every cent he had into one particularly rare tulip bulb. He invited his best friend over to see the bulb. When his friend arrived, our guy was busy with a family matter in another room. The bulb had been left on the kitchen table. The friend was hungry and mistaking the bulb for an onion, ate it.

LAUGH TRACK

MURRAY: Onions give me gas.
LAUGH TRACK
LOU: Don’t you get it, Murray?

MURRAY: Apparently not, Lou. Why don’t you let me in on the moral of this Aesop fable.

LOU: Everything in society is mad if you don’t understand its significance. Sanity is based on consensus.

MURRAY: Consensus? Did we all vote on insane behavior? I guess I forgot to register.

LOU: Are you trying to rile me, Murray?

MURRAY: Never, Lou.

LAUGH TRACK

MURRAY: Lou, why have you got your hands over your ears?

LOU: You wouldn’t believe me.

MURRAY: Okay, Lou. We’re getting off course again. Now tell me, why is Mary so important in your dream? This fellow Harry pays her a lot of attention and it sounds as if she has aroused the curiosity of this Michael chap.

LOU: Be careful what you say, Murray.

MURRAY: Well, Lou, face up to the facts. You’ve got a thing for Mary.

LOU: Have not!

MURRAY: Do!

LOU: Don’t!

LAUGH TRACK

LOU: The social mores that run every society are tailored to the needs of the elite.

LAUGH TRACK

MURRAY: What’s that got to do with Mary?

LOU: I don’t know. It just came flying out of my mouth. This isn’t right, Murray. I’m starting to sound like an anthropologist. That’s not me. I can’t even spell the word.

LAUGH TRACK

MURRAY: I think you mean sociologist, Lou.

LOU: I can’t spell that either.

LAUGH TRACK

A Drink After Work At The Silver Dollar (Chapter 15, Lou Grant)

15.

A Drink After Work At The Silver Dollar

LOU: There was a man of Bourges who was driven into the forest by a swarm of flies.

MURRAY: Why can’t anybody be from Nantucket? I know some dandy limericks.

LOU: I’m drunk and I’m your boss.

MURRAY: I’m listening your lordship.

LOU: For two years the man of Bourges wandered through the forest — a mad man. When finally he exited from the forest, he declared to everyone that he was a new man. He was a Jesus Christ.

MURRAY: Don’t tell me! People believed him.

LAUGH TRACK

LOU: He had a huge following, Murray. A middle-ages Billy Graham.

MURRAY: I saw Billy Graham on the Jack Parr Show. He’s a good looking guy. If he’d just keep his mouth shut. All that blabbering about religion really turns me off. LAUGH TRACK

LOU: Finally the man from Bourges was brought before a local prince. Who are you? he was asked. He did not respond. Are you the Christ? he was asked. So, you say it, the man replied. Ah, the prince cried and had the man burned as a heretic.

MURRAY: That would certainly teach him a lesson.

LAUGH TRACK

LOU: This story was repeated throughout the middle-ages. What if he was Christ, Murray? What if that was the Second Coming? What if Christ kept coming back but no one ever believed him?

MURRAY: I’d be pissed, Lou. If I was God. I’d throw a tissy. But I man not God. Which I’m happy to point out. And neither was this fellow from Bourges. He was nuts. Is that pronounced gay at the end. Or just. I prefer gay. Though I’d never…

LOU: What if he wasn’t though?

MURRAY: Lou, you’re starting to worry me.

LOU: I’m starting to worry myself.

MURRAY: Have you talked to Mary about this?

LOU: Mary?

MURRAY: I think she should know.

LOU: Why would I tell Mary?

MURRAY: Because you’re in love with her, Lou.

LOU: Me in love with Mary! (hyena laughter)

MURRAY: Tell me you’re not in love with Mary, Lou.

LOU: She’s like a daughter to me.

MURRAY: You’re avoiding the question, Lou.

LOU: I’m drunk, Murray. That’s my prerogative.

MURRAY: Who are those two characters?

LOU: What characters?

MURRAY: You talked about them… Harry. One was Harry. And the other guy, a new guy was called…

LOU: Shit!

MURRAY: No, I don’t think that was his name.

LAUGH TRACK

LOU: I mean, I forgot all about them.

MURRAY: I think his name was Michael.

LOU: They’re going to be pissed.