Man of my Dreams
(Another piece from the "early days"-this is the second monologue I wrote during the PANIC BUTTONS run of 2006 for myself, as myself...while I did adore portraying celebrities such as Charlton Heston and Jimmy Stewart, just saying insane s#!t, there was something a little special about the quasi-autobiographical ones...anyway, hope you enjoy.)
This is about the man of my dreams.
When I was twelve years old, I was sent to this summer day camp at one of those circular-shaped east side schools that looks more like a church from the outside. One afternoon they had us make dream journals. We all got construction paper to fold and staple into little booklets. We were told to illustrate the covers with recurring imagery from our dreams. I remember a sword on one kid's; another drew himself in flight. But when I thought of the visions that haunted my nights, I could think of only one...the man of my dreams...
That's right-the incomparable, the unmistakable, the eternally eerie Donald Sutherland. This is an early model Sutherland, 1978 to be exact, from the remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. This model came with permed hair, moustache, and a piercing screech that scared the piss right out of my prepubescent body. It would be this Donald Sutherland, of all the Donald Sutherlands, that would visit my sleeping mind most often.
And you know, I never even saw the whole movie. I always caught it on TV, and always just the second half, when everything had already gone to hell and they were on the run from Leonard Nimoy. But the mark of Sutherland was already upon me.
As time went by, and I was introduced to new nightmares, Mr. Sutherland retreated into the background. He never left me; more like he became a regular cameo. There he was, reading in an impossibly long bookstore, as I looked out the window at penguins practicing dance moves for the next New Kids on the Block concert. Were the penguins the New Kids on the Block? And what about stately Wayne Manor, where I was standing just seconds earlier? Mr. Sutherland provided no answers. But I always knew he had my back. When Satan attacked the back porch of my house, it was Donald (and Captain Kirk) that helped me defend the homestead. And when the occasion called for it, I actually BECAME Donald Sutherland, unnamed cabbie driving a partially-submerged taxi, waging an underground war against the Vampire Queen of New York. My dream man wasn't scary anymore.
In fact, I started seeing him everywhere. He was in a bunch of my favorite war movies, usually as the Weird Guy. Then he became the Concerned Guy, which lost flavor with repeated servings in the eighties. Then, in the nineties, his hair went grey, and the world saw Mr. Sutherland with fresh eyes. The roles poured in! He played Old Guys, Government Guys, Crazy Guys, Crazy Old Guys, Old Government Guys, and yes, even Crazy Government Guys. And if Tommy Lee Jones didn't get first pick of all Crazy Old Government Guys by federal law, I'm sure Mr. Sutherland would have that sewn up too.
I don't remember so many dreams these days. But when I think about them, I like to think there's a Sutherland there. Young, old, permed-even the latter-day Sutherland, with his slight pudge and constant smirk. I'll always make a space for him. It's the least we can all do. After all, the man gave us his son to save us from international terrorism.
97% true,
JG