Mitch Gets Fit

Rosie: What on earth are you doing?

Mitch: I’m doing my P90X workout routine. It’s an intense, 90-day home fitness program. Don’t you watch TV at five o’clock in the morning? There’s nothing but ads for home fitness programs. This is one of them. I’m on day 45, with 45 days to go.

Rosie: I’m happy for you, but if you really want to get fit, why don’t you try getting eight hours of sleep?

Mitch: I can function just fine on five hours. Watch, I’m going to do a one-armed handstand at the wall.

Rosie: Fascinating.

Mitch: Whew! Now I need my ‘recovery drink.’  (pours an orange-flavored dietary supplement)

Rosie: I thought beer was your recovery drink?

Mitch: Beer is not as important to me as it once was.

Rosie: (chokes over her water bowl, blows water out of her nose)

Mitch: That’s real nice.

Rosie: (sputtering) Did you say beer was no longer important to you?

Mitch: I’ve cut back on my beer drinking, in order to get fit.

Rosie: But you said beer was the elixir of life!

Mitch: Was I drinking beer when I said that?

Rosie: Copiously!

Mitch: Don’t believe anything I say when I’m drinking.

Rosie: That wipes out nearly every conversation we’ve ever had!

Mitch:  Sorry, but I’m on a fitness kick. I’m eating raw kale, drinking protein shakes and  working out. Look at this dumbbell.

Rosie: I’m looking.

Mitch: Down here, on the floor!

Rosie: Hey, there’s another one.

Mitch: Look, I’m about to turn 57, and I’m doing this as a birthday present to–.

Rosie: To your ego?

Mitch: To myself! My dad had his first heart attack at 61! I’ll be 60 in three years! I’ve got to do something now!

Rosie: Try using fewer exclamation points. It’ll lower your blood pressure.

Mitch: Fine. Don’t support me. I’ll die young–

Rosie: Too late.

Mitch: –and you can go back and live with your former owner.

Rosie: Maybe I’ll die young, and you can go back and live with your former owner.

Mitch: If you’re referring to my ex-, that’s a terrible analogy.

Rosie: Oh, is it?

Mitch: You’ll be eating your words when I get through this program.

Rosie: Better that, than raw kale.  (to be continued, in 45 days)

The Review

(This is part III of ‘Rosie! The Musical!’ Parts I and II, are to be found below this post. To bring you up-to-date, Rosie has convinced me to write a musical about her life. The show has opened off-Broadway and the ‘reviews’ are in.)

Oh! The Humanity!

By Les Meacham

Times Theater Critic

Published: Jan. 19, 2011

New York, NY — Gratuitous nudity, multiple ‘spit takes,’ the inclusion of a non-singing lead, and a score so high only dogs can hear it, are just a few of the problems with “Rosie! The Musical!” which opened last night at the Pantheon Theater.

 

 Scarlett Johansson plays the title character in ‘Rosie! The Musical!’  by Mitch Coleman (book), Stephen Schwartz (music) and James Maroe (lyrics).  Director: Mike Hill

In a small town in West Michigan, a man and his dog  explore life, love, and liver treats. And did I mention the Amish?

An encomium to man’s best friend, “Rosie! The Musical!” features a collection of characters never before seen on stage–and for good reason.  They include a trangendered deer, a gay Labrador Retriever, an oversized Corgi, and a pet therapist (amiably played by newcomer Bruce Baker) who serves as a sort of Ringmaster over this chaotic collection of skits, half-formed ideas and improv comedy rejects.

Scarlett Johansson plays the title character with sensitivity and wit, but after making an initial splash, she’s swept away by a strong current of community theater cliches and line…pause…line readings that left this audience member hoping that the performance would be brought to a halt by a ringing cell phone.

The role of Rosie’s master is played by Mel Gibson, in an obvious bit of stunt casting that brings back unhappy memories of Brooke Shields in…well, in just about anything.

Mr. Gibson’s role is a largely non-singing one, which is good, since he is an entirely non-singing actor. Late in the first act, he does attempt some ‘talk-singing’ which, though delivered in a wonderfully sonorous bass, does nothing to banish the memory of the late Lorne Greene.

Other characters fared little better. Harvey Fierstein, woefully miscast as Rosie’s endomorphic friend Clover, spends most of his time hiding under an oversized couch. It’s unclear whether this was called for in the script, or whether Mr. Fierstein simply made the choice himself.

Bette Midler plays Bette Midler playing ‘Madam Rosa’–a psychic with a penchant for psychotropics, and by the time Nathan Lane shows up as Buck, the transgendered deer (someone should tell him that’s not where you wear your antlers) one could be forgiven for thinking that someone had slipped LSD into the theater’s drinking fountain.

Watching ‘Rosie! The Musical!’ was rather like watching newsreel footage of the fiery crash of the Hindenburg; you know people are dying up there, but try as you might, you can’t work up any sympathy for them.

“Rosie! The Musical!” runs through Feb. 1 at the Pantheon Theater, 303 W. 42nd Street. (212) 555-5856, ticketcentral.com.

The Rehearsal

(This is a continuation of ‘Rosie! The Musical!’ which you’ll find below this post. Rosie has induced me to write a musical about her life, and the ‘show’ is in rehearsal with Scarlett Johansson as Rosie, and Mel Gibson, as me.)

Rosie: (backstage, to Mitch) Mel has a concern.

Mitch: For the third time, Scarlett Johansson is not Jewish!

Rosie: That’s not his concern…anymore.

Mitch: What does he want?

Rosie: He thinks his role is unbelievable, as written.

Mitch: He’s playing me! I have an unbelievable life–of course he feels that way!

Rosie: He wants you to cut the scene where he stops the runaway buggy and rescues the Amish family, and the daughter falls in love with him.

Mitch: That really happened to me!

Rosie: And he wants you to put the scene back in where he punches out the mohel.

Mitch: Before, or after the bris?

Rosie: Before.

Mitch: Fine, why don’t we just let Mel write the whole damn thing!  What does he know about crafting a compelling story?

Rosie: Does ‘The Passion of the Christ’ mean anything to you?

Mitch: He ripped off the Bible! Anybody can do that!

Rosie: Shhhh!  Here he comes!

(Mel stalks past, doesn’t look, doesn’t speak)

Mitch: Hey Mel, You’re doing great work! Keep it up!

(Mel goes into his dressing room, closes the door)

Rosie: You are such a suck-up.

Mitch: You’ve got to humor him!

Rosie: I knew we should have gotten Nathan Lane. Mel Gibson doesn’t even sing! And this is supposed to be a musical! Did you ask Stephen Schwartz to set the score a few octaves higher?

Mitch: He refused. He said if we go any higher, only dogs will hear it.

Rosie: That’s the point!

Mitch: Look, I don’t want you screwing around backstage during rehearsal.  I’ve made all the changes I’m going to make. The show is going on as is!

Scarlett: Oh, Mitch, there you are! Listen, can we talk about all these nude scenes?

Mitch: Your role was inspired by a dog. Dogs are very concerned about hygiene.

Scarlett: You’ve got me taking five showers.

Mitch: And each one is essential to the plot.

Scarlett: I won’t do it.

Mitch: Okay. I’ll change it.

Scarlett: You’re a dear! (kisses his cheek, darts off)

Rosie: (mocking) “Okay, I’ll change it.” You make me want to throw up. And this is coming from someone who eats her own poop!

Mitch: I’m doing what I have to do, to make this show a hit. We open in two weeks.

Rosie:  God help us.

(next: The Review)

Rosie! The Musical!

Rosie: I’ve got an exciting new project!

Mitch: Really?

Rosie: For you!

Mitch: (skeptically) Really?

Rosie: It’s ‘Rosie! The Musical!’  We’ll do a musical, based on my life!

Mitch: You know, that’s an interesting idea.

Rosie: And you’ll write it. You’ve written a musical before, right?

Mitch: When I lived in Chicago, I collaborated with a composer, and wrote a musical based on ‘The Scarlet Letter.’

Rosie: So you have experience in musical theater!

Mitch: Yeah, but the show kind of sucked.  Scratch that–it really sucked. It never got beyond a reading in somebody’s living room.

Rosie: That’s because you weren’t writing about me!

Mitch: Problem solved!

Rosie: Here’s how I would cast the show–for me, Scarlett Johansson.

Mitch: Can she sing?

Rosie: Who cares! She’s Scarlett Johansson!

Mitch: Oh! And for me, how about Hugh Jackman?

Rosie: Gotta be Nathan Lane, don’t you think?

Mitch: Or maybe Hugh Jackman?

Rosie: Oh! Oh! Matthew Broderick!

Mitch: Uh-huh. Or Hugh Jackman. We’ll come back to this one.

Rosie: And as Clover–Rosie O’Donnell!

Mitch: That won’t work.

Rosie: I know she’s horrible to work with, but–

Mitch: That’s not the problem. If you have a show about your life, and it’s called ‘Rosie!’ and you put Rosie O’Donnell anywhere in the cast, people will think it’s about her.

Rosie: OMG, you’re right. Now I’m stuck.

Mitch: What would you think about Harvey Fierstein in drag?

Rosie: Hmmmm…let’s come back to that one.

Mitch: Well I think the show is a great idea. Any other characters you want to bring in?

Rosie: We need someone to play Rex, my gay ex-boyfriend. And here’s the hook–he’ll be played by an actor who’s actually gay!

Mitch: How provocative!

Rosie: Ripped from today’s headlines! But where are we going to find a gay actor in musical theater?

Mitch: Give me two minutes and a Manhattan phone book.

Rosie: Oh! And we need someone to play Dr. Labradoodle!

Mitch: Who’s that guy who played ‘Gandalf’ in ‘Lord of the Rings?’

Rosie: Sir Ian McKellen! He’d kill for this role! It could finally make his career!

Mitch: Right. Earning a Knighthood can be such a career-killer. Hey, how about Jeremy Irons?

Rosie: Jeremy Irons? I don’t know. Does he have the gravitas?

Mitch: You’re right. When I think ‘Dr. Labradoodle,’ I think, ‘Gravitas.’

Rosie: We’re forgetting two key roles!

Mitch: Who’s that?

Rosie: Buck the Deer, and Madam Rosa.

Mitch:  Has Brad Pitt done Broadway?

Rosie: If we cast Brad Pitt, I’ll play myself!

Mitch: No you won’t. And as Madam Rosa–

Rosie:  Bette Midler!

Mitch: You took the name right out of my mouth.

(to be continued)

2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 6,100 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

A Lesson in Self-Esteem

Mitch: (to Rosie) How did you get to be such a good dog?

Rosie: Huh?

Mitch: I said, how did you get to be such a good dog?

Rosie: You talkin’ to me?

Mitch: Who else would I be talking to?

Rosie: I thought maybe Clover was hiding under the couch.

Mitch: Clover’s too big to fit under the couch.

Rosie: She’s almost too big to fit on the–

Mitch: Stop yourself! Here I am, trying to pay you a compliment, and you have to start tearing down a friend.

Rosie: Sorry. I guess I get a little self-conscious when you say nice things about me.

Mitch: That’s because you’ve got low self-esteem. You know what’s good for raising self-esteem?

Rosie: Beer?

Mitch: Besides beer.

Rosie: Yoga?

Mitch: Yes! How did you know that?

Rosie: Because with you, it always comes back to yoga.

Mitch: Maybe that’s because–

Rosie: Yoga for back pain, yoga for menopause, yoga for shin splints–

Mitch: Okay! Okay! Point taken.

Rosie: All I’m saying, is that by casting such a wide net, you call into question the true efficacy of a yoga practice.

Mitch: ???

Rosie: It’s not a cure-all, is what I’m saying.

Mitch: Why do I even let you be part of this blog?

Rosie: Because without me, there is no blog.

Mitch: Point taken. Look, yoga is good for self-esteem–that’s a proven fact. Let me show you what I’m talking about. Stand up…now stand tall, puff out your chest a little…

Rosie: I am puffing it out.

Mitch: Puff it out more.

Rosie: This is me, with my chest puffed out!  This is as good as it gets!

Mitch: Okay, sorry. Drop your chin a little…shoulders back…good…now try standing on one leg.

Rosie: One leg? What are you talking about?

Mitch: I’m sorry, I keep forgetting you’re a dog.

Rosie: What kind of an idiot are you?

Mitch: I’m sorry, I’m–

Rosie: Wow, you’re right! I do feel better about myself! Compared to you, I’m  Mr. freakin’ Peabody!

Mitch: Okay, okay…

Rosie: Thanks yoga!  I feel so good about myself now!

Mitch: (sigh)

Rosie: Yoga for self-esteem! Fabulous! And I’ll bet no one can teach it as well as you!

Mitch: Point taken.

Rosie’s Christmas List

(Scene: Santa’s home near the North Pole. Santa is relaxing in his La-Z-Boy, enjoying a warm Remy, while an elf sits at his elbow reading from a large scroll)

Elf: Here we go…Rosie Coleman…she wants pig ears, rawhides, what the–oh, okay, she’s a dog. Now it makes sense.

Santa: We’re getting letters from dogs, now?

Elf: Apparently, Rosie is not your ordinary dog.

Santa:  Apparently not. (thoughtful) Rosie Coleman. Didn’t we have her on the list last year?

Elf: Right. She said she wanted dog treats, and for her owner to get a real job. He’s a yoga teacher.

Santa: How’d we do on that one?

Elf: We did great on the treats. On the job…not so much.

Santa: So he’s still a yoga teacher?

Elf: It would appear so.

Santa: Poor bastard. He should get his G.E.D. Might open up some opportunities.

Elf: How about we send what we sent last year?

Santa: What was that?

Elf: Bag of dog treats and a link to Jobfinder.com.

Santa: Done. (drains his glass) It’s a hard world. I’m still trying to find a job for Mitt Romney.

Elf: How’s that working out?

Santa: Not great. Ron Paul? I mean, seriously.

Elf: (rolls up the scroll) That’s about it for the ‘good list.’ Want to go over the ‘naughty list’ again?

Santa: Send it to my phone. I’ll check it while I’m on the road. (gets slowly to his feet, rubs his low back) Man, I’m getting old. It hurts to move.

Elf: Hey, you know what might help?

Santa: (brightly) Vicodin?

Elf: Yoga. You should go see this yoga guy. Maybe sign up for a gentle–

Santa: Will you look at the time? I should be over Latvia by now.

Elf: He offers private clas–

Santa: (interrupting) Did you feed the reindeer?

Elf: Fine, go ahead, suffer.

Santa: Well I mean, really. Can you see me touching my toes? I haven’t even seen my toes since 1891. And you know what else I haven’t seen?

Elf: Could we not go there?

Santa: I’m just sayin’–

Elf: And I’m just sayin’ I’ve got an EEOC claim that only needs my signature.

Santa: Just load the sleigh.

Elf: Fine.

Santa: Fine.

Elf: Fine!

Rosie’s Family Tree

Rosie: Take a look at this.

Mitch: What is it?

Rosie: It’s my family tree.

Mitch: Wow, this is impressive. Pictures and everything.

Rosie: They’re not listed strictly in order. I moved some things around so I could show you the high points.

Mitch: Let’s give it a look (reads):

‘Ike’ 1944-1953. ‘A mix of terrier and God-only-knows, Ike was the beloved mascot of I Company, 31st Infantry, in the Korean War. In ’53, during an assault on Pork Chop Hill, he threw himself on a grenade, saving three soldiers. All they found was the wig.’

Mitch: That’s…quite a story.

Rosie: They say the wig stayed in our family for a few years, and then somebody ate it.

Mitch: That’ll happen.

‘Angus’ 1950-1957. ‘A collie with a penchant for meerschaum pipes and Irish Whiskey, Angus was famous for his drinking, and his herding skills. He met his end when, after downing half-a-bottle of Jameson, he attempted to herd a pack of wolves. His last words were, “Watch me get them sheep.”  Later, ‘Watch me get them sheep’ became a catchphrase for those who were about to attempt something dangerous and stupid.’

Mitch: I’ve never heard that catchphrase.

Rosie: Sadly, it has disappeared  from the popular lexicon.

‘Daisy’ 1967-1969.

Mitch: She looks just like your blog photo.

Rosie: The resemblance is profound.

‘Born in San Francisco, during the ‘Summer of Love,’ Daisy was a free-spirited, counter-culture canine. A believer in free love, she would willingly climb into anyone’s bed.’

Mitch: How is that different from any dog who’s ever lived?

Rosie: You are walking on a razor’s edge, my friend.

Mitch: Sorry.

‘Tragically, she died at Woodstock, after she OD’d on bad liver treats.’

Mitch: I heard there were some bad liver treats going around at Woodstock.

Rosie: She was incautious.

‘Pfeffer’ 1980-1988.  Pfeffer became famous in the family, as the first dog ever to take the California State Bar Exam. After he failed to pass, he bit the examiner, and had to be put down.’

Mitch: Jeez, I’m not sure he had the temperament to practice law.

‘But Pfeffer’s tragic death was not in vain. His efforts to earn his J.D. resulted in lasting changes to California law.’

Mitch: Such as?

Rosie: Dogs are no longer allowed to take the state bar exam.

Mitch: Change is good.

Morrie, 2007-. 

Mitch: There’s nothing written about Morrie.

Rosie: We don’t talk about Morrie.

Mitch: Then why’s he included?

Rosie: He said if I wasn’t nice to him, he’d track me down and kill me.

Mitch: Same reason I send a Christmas card to my ex-.

(they ‘high five’ each other)

Rosie: And that brings us to the last, and arguably most important listing.

‘Nipper’ 1884-1895. 

Mitch: Nipper? The dog from the old RCA Victor ads? Are you crappin’ me?

Rosie: Look at him. Can there be any doubt?

Mitch: I’m sorry, but I can tell from looking at the picture, that Nipper is not related to you.

Rosie: How can you tell?

Mitch: Just look. Nipper actually listens to his master’s voi–OW!!!

Madam Rosa Dries Out

(Rosie and Mitch are visiting Madam Rosa at the Betty Ford Center.  As we open, they’re in the visitors lounge, waiting for her to appear.)

Rosie: I hope we see a celebrity, while we’re here.

Mitch: Keep it together, will ya?  We’re here to offer caring support for Madam Rosa. She’s hit a rough patch.

Rosie: Kind of like the Titanic hit a rough patch?

Mitch:Shhh! Here she comes!

Madam Rosa: (attempting a grand entrance) Madam Rosa is with you now!

Mitch: You look great, Madam Rosa.

Madam Rosa: That’s because I knew you were coming!

Rosie: You mean you saw into the future?

Madam Rosa: No, I saw  into the Visitors’ Log. You made an appointment, remember?

Mitch: (sigh)

Rosie: Madam Rosa, have you seen any celebrities?

Madam Rosa: You mean live ones?

Rosie: Oh my God, do you see dead people?

Madam Rosa: In my sleep!

Mitch: I don’t think we should–

Rosie: Tell us more! Who have you seen? What did they say?

Madam Rosa: First, I need to see a ‘dead President,’ if you know what I mean.

Rosie: (to Mitch) Quick, give her that picture of Andrew Jackson that you carry in your wallet.

Mitch: (pulls out his wallet) How about I give her the picture of Abraham Lincoln instead? (gives Madam Rosa a $5 bill)

Madam Rosa: (scowls, but continues) Last night, I was approached by the spirit of former Yankee catching great, Thurman Munson.

Mitch: Wait a minute…who?

Rosie: Shhh! She couldn’t make that up! What did he say?

Madam Rosa: He said, “That’s…that’s…” (trails off)

Rosie: That’s what?

Madam Rosa: That’s $5 worth.

Rosie: (to Mitch) Quick, give her another $5!

Madam Rosa: Fifty will get you a ‘half and half.’

Mitch: Excuse me?

Madam Rosa: Half messages from the dead, half predictions for the future. What did you think I meant?

Staff Member: Madam Rosa! We think Betty’s trying to contact us again! We found a bottle of Vicodin behind a toilet in the ladies room!

Madam Rosa: (muttering) So that’s what happened to it!

Rosie: We’d better go.  Madam Rosa’s special talents are needed to contact Betty Ford!

Mitch: I think it was Madam Rosa’s ‘special talents’ that they found behind a toilet in the–

Rosie: Stop Yourself! Goodbye, Madam Rosa! We’ll see you upon your successful completion of this worthwhile program!

Madam Rosa: Or…whenever!

Mitch: (sigh)

The Reckoning

(This is the final post in the ‘Rosie’s Wedding’ series. Previous posts may be found below–beginning with ‘Buck Pops the Question.’ As we open, Rosie is standing with all four feet in a bucket of ice water.)

Mitch: How are your paws?

Rosie: Still sore, but improving.

Mitch: So you couldn’t catch him?

Rosie: He’s quick.

Mitch: I’d be quick, too, if I were being chased by a pack of hounds. How far did you run him?

Rosie: All the way to the bridge.

Mitch: Between here and Whitehall?

Rosie: Between here and the U.P.

Mitch: You chased him to the Mackinac bridge?!?!

Rosie: We caught a ride back.

Mitch: How does a pack of dogs ‘catch a ride?’

Rosie: Just go with it.

Mitch: Sheesh, he’s probably in Canada by now.

Rosie: Canada can have him. Or her. Or whatever.

Mitch: Finding out that your fiance used to be a female. That’s gotta be tough. You know, Chaz Bono–

Rosie: I don’t want to hear any more about Chaz Bono!

Mitch: But he’s a role model for transgender–

Rosie: Strapping on a pair of antlers, and a pair of…accoutrements…does not make you transgender!

Mitch: I’ll grant you that veterinary gender reassignment surgery is not keeping up with changes in cultural attitudes, but–

Rosie: Let me explain something…Shut up.

Mitch: Right. (checks the bucket) Need more ice?

Rosie: Yes. In a glass. Surrounded by bourbon.

Mitch: Did you at least bring back the antlers?

Rosie: I’m having them mounted. The head will have to be added later.

Mitch: What about the…accoutrements?

Rosie: Check out your new bookends.

Mitch: Oh, that’s…real nice.