I’m a big fan of our premier local theater group, Forward Theater Co. Every other year they mount a monologue festival, featuring about a dozen original monologues from all over the U.S. This year the theme is Out in This World described as follows from their website:
“They say that traveling leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller. FTC’s seventh monologue festival, Out in This World, presents twelve storytellers whose tales will take you on journeys both familiar and unexpected. Whether venturing to faraway places or making discoveries closer to home, this collection of original monologues will transport you. Who knows where the path might lead?”
Forward Theater Monologue Festival, 2023
The theme of the first festival was The Love That Changed My Life and I submitted Fifteen Valentines. The second festival’s theme was food, Soul Food and I submitted three monologues, The Orphan Holidays, Good Morning, and Oleo Run. I didn’t submit to their third festival about banned books, Out of the Fire. For the fourth festival, Someone’s Gotta Do It!, I submitted an adaptation of a poem I wrote about working at Jockey Menswear in Kenosha, Wisconsin and how it changed my life. The monologue entitled, Maria from the Sewing Room was not selected but made the semifinals out of 300 submissions and I received the best rejection letter of my writing career.
For Two Steps Forward, the fifth monologue festival, I submitted a story, 1968: Flashback & Fast Forward, and for the sixth, 2021 festival, Within These Walls: Stories of Home, I wrote and submitted two monologues, Within These Walls: Moving Stories and Within These Walls: Oral History
Again, this year my monologue, I’m a Little Bit OCD responding to the Out in This World theme was not chosen however, I’m not deterred. I now have a collection of spoken word monologues that I can repackage as a book of nonfiction stories, The Rejected Monologues.
Unfortunately, I won’t be able to attend next week’s Forward Theater Monologue Festival from May 18-20. I’m a panelist at a conference and on the last day of the festival, I’ll need to unpack, do laundry, and enjoy the solitude of my home. I do encourage readers to attend the festival. The writing and acting are not to be missed.
I enjoyed reminiscing about this vacation to Provincetown in Cape Cod and dedicate this story to my travel companion and former partner, Cindy. It was also a reminder that despite all of our plans and best intentions, things change.
I’m a Little Bit OCD
First, before I begin my story about my vacation to Provincetown at the tip of Cape Cod, Massachusetts, I must confess, I’m a little bit OCD. I’m a list-maker. In addition to my datebook, I make to-do lists each week. I save my to-do lists too, so I can look back and see how, where, and with whom I spend my time. I’ve archived over a ream of to-do lists.
I’m a reminiscence writer so I guess you could also say I’m a time-traveler. I spend more time looking back at my yesterdays and ahead to my tomorrows, I need to practice being present in the moment. (Sigh) I’m a work in progress.
I relish in the planning of the vacation as much as I live it in the moment. Afterwards, I spend lots of time looking back at the photographs, souvenirs, receipts, and ephemera and relive and write about the experience. In July, 1999 my lesbian partner and I booked a trip to Provincetown, or should I say, I did. It was my role to be the vacation planner.
Yes, P-Town is an LGBTQ+ destination for those of us who can’t afford Fire Island or Martha’s Vineyard. It was my job, and pleasure, to research our accommodations, book our plane and rental car reservations, and plan activities for the week of our vacation. My partner had one priority, lobster every day!
During my work breaks and lunch hours the weeks leading up to our vacation, I mastered internet search engines for my research. I visited the Provincetown Chamber of Commerce & Visitor Center website, searched the accommodation options, and focused on Bed & Breakfasts. I perused restaurant menus, and tourist activities, including whale-watching, a sailing excursion on a tall ship, and dune buggy tour of the Cape Cod National Seashore Park. Provincetown has a rich cultural history of famous artists and writers. I wanted to take it all in, the art galleries, restaurants, music, gift shops, seashore, ocean, dunes, and history.
I booked our flight, car rental, and accommodations, I found a stand-alone Koi Pond Garden Cottage at The Inn on Cook Street Bed & Breakfast. We’d have our privacy, a cottage with a porch overlooking the pond and gardens which included a bedroom, small kitchen, full bath, and a reading loft. It was perfect. We’d also join other guests in the main house for morning brunches with our gay owner/hosts.
Koi Cottage, Inn on Cook Street
Cottage with reading loft, kitchen & bath.
Vaulted ceilings.
I made dinner reservations for our first night in P-Town at the Lobster Pot, booked our excursions, and midweek, we planned on exploring more of the Cape, including tickets in Hyannis at the Cape Cod Melody Tent which boasted a rotating stage in a circular, outdoor-tented theater. My partner was from Texas, a fan of country music, and was thrilled I found tickets for Willy Nelson and his band. By this point, I’m pretty proud of myself and my skills at vacation planning.
We arrived early Friday afternoon on July 16, 1999, in Boston at Logan Airport. We picked up our rental car and like many other summer tourists drove the bumper-to-bumper Cape Cod traffic to Provincetown. We checked-in to our cottage at the Inn on Cook Street and took our first stroll in P-Town, where you’re able to walk to most of the restaurants, art galleries, shopping, and excursion launch destinations. We had our first lobster dinner at the famous Lobster Pot. My partner was happy. We were off to a good start.
After dinner, we returned to our cottage on a foggy night, unpacked, tucked ourselves under the king-size bed comforter, and swiftly fell asleep. In the morning after our cups of coffee prepared in our kitchenette, we shared our hour of emotional intimacy as we have each day of our relationship. After showering and dressing, we walked to the main house for our first brunch with our hosts and guests.
Everyone was huddled, not around the dining table with fresh flowers featuring coffee, tea, juices, quiche, fruit, pastries and bacon and sausage. Instead, the hosts greeted us in whispered voices and escorted us into the TV room, where all the guests were watching the news. JFK Jr., his wife and sister-in law, were missing. It was feared that their plane crashed in the ocean near Martha’s Vineyard. They had traveled that foggy Friday night to celebrate the wedding the next day of his cousin, Rory Kennedy.
The event was a tragic reminder for me that unexpected things happen. One can’t plan for everything. Sometimes we’re asked to just show up, be present in the moment. We connected with our fellow hosts and guests not as tourists, but as concerned citizens of our shared humanity.
Throughout our vacation, whenever we returned to our cottage, we watched the news. At first it was a search and rescue, then it soon became search and recovery. When we shared our brunch with hosts and guests, the topic was the tragedy we were witnessing and the Kennedy family losses.
Mid-week of our Cape Cod vacation we traveled to Hyannis for our Cape Cod Melody Tent concert. On the way we saw Rory Kennedy’s abandoned white wedding tents at the Kennedy Family Hyannis Port Compound and the queue of parked cable TV news trucks.
There are moments in life when time stops, when memories become vivid and hardwired. It was a reminder for me to be present and access all of my emotions, in this case, profound grief.
Forward Theater Monologues (aka, The Rejected Monologues)
1968: Flashback & Fast Forward