Mom script
Saturday, April 25, 2009

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SS (MOM, ON PHONE): Duane? Duane honey, is that--

GK: —You have reached Duane. Iím not available to take your call. Please leave a message after the beep. (BEEP) SS (MOM, ON PHONE): Duane. That is not an answering machine. I know answering machines. That is you. — Hello?

GK: This is not an answering machine, it is voice mail. Please leave your message after the beep.

SS (MOM): Duane— Talk to me. — Duane? This is your mother. I know thatís you.

GK: Iím going to beep once more. Please leave a message. Iíll get back to you as soon as possible.

SS: Duane, I can tell itís you. — Itís you, Duane. Answer me. Duane?

GK: Why canít you just leave a message?

SS: Duane, I am a mother. Mothers do not leave messages. Motherhood is not about messages, itís about love, Duane.

GK: Mom, Iím just really busy now trying to finish up this novel. Itís due on Wednesday.

SS (MOM, ON PHONE): Duane, I just called to remind you that itís your fatherís birthday on May 1st and if you donít want to come for our annual birthday dinner at Schnittgerís with your dad and me and Harry and Luella, thatís okay, but if youíre not coming, I have to prepare him for it.

GK: I donít know. Iím trying to write a novel—

SS (MOM): I thought youíd be done with that by now. Not going so well, huh?

GK: Mother—

SS (MOM): You know what your problem is? Itís your women characters — youíre just way off the mark—

GK: Mother—

SS (MOM): The way they talk— you need to get out more, honey.

GK: Youíve read my novel?

SS (MOM): Women donít refer to them as ďunderthings,Ē Duane.

GK: Who said you could read my novel?

SS (MOM): Duane, I am your mother.

GK: Itís not ready to be read.

SS (MOM): Boy, donít I know that!

GK: What gives you the right to go into my computer and read my novel?

SS (MOM): Itís a motherís right, Duane. Itís a motherís right to know. And I earned that right when I lay writhing in that hospital delivery room suffering the worst agony a human being can sufferó

GK: Mom.

SS (MOM): I went through the pangs of death when I had you, Duane—

GK: Mom—

SS (MOM): If the CIA did to terrorists what you did to me, they wouldíve been indicted for torture.

GK: Okay, okay—take it easy.

SS (MOM): Waterboarding is nothing compared to baby-boarding.

GK: Okay—

SS (MOM): I have not been the same person since.

GK: Mom, Iíll come to the birthday dinner.

SS (MOM): I donít want you to cheat yourself, Duane — I know how much this book means to you, since the last on went in the toilet. My gosh, what those critics said about you. ďReading this book was like waking up with a deceased relative in the bed.Ē Where do they come up with things like that — anyway, if I could push a 12-pound baby down a tube as big as your thumb, Iím sure you can write that novel.

GK: Thanks, Mom.

SS: Your dad wants to talk to you now, okay? Hank! Hank! (TR OFF) Come here and take the phone. (TR GRUMBLE) Itís Duane. Your son. (TR GRUMBLE) He wants to talk to you. Come here. — Duane, you still there?

GK: Still here, Mom.

SS: Come on, Hank. Come to the phone. Itíll just take a minute and you can go back to your show. — Heís watching a fishing tournament on TV.

GK: Of course.

TR: Hi, son.

GK: Hi Dad. Howís everything?

TR: About the same.

GK: Okay.

TR: Yeah. Just taking it easy. Howís it with you? You staying out of trouble?

GK: Yeah. Everythingís about the same.

TR: Okay. — So how come weíre talking then?

GK: Have no idea, Dad.

TR: Okay. Hereís your mother.

SS: Give me the phone, Hank. Donít just drop it on the — Okay. So — youíre coming to the birthday dinner on the 1st at Schnittgerís?

GK: Fine.

SS: Okay, we need to order our entrees in advance. You want chicken or steak?

GK: Is that the only choice?

SS: Chicken or steak.

GK: How about fish?

SS: What did I just get done saying?

GK: Okay, Iíll just have a salad.

SS: Chicken not good enough for you?

GK: Iíd just rather have a salad.

SS: Some woman making you a vegetarian?

GK: No.

SS: If youíre trying to lose weight, honey, itís exercise you need. Donít starve yourself. It doesnít work.

GK: Okay. How about I have chicken.

SS: Thatís what you want?

GK: Itís fine.

SS: I donít want to push you into something you donít want.

GK: Chicken is fine.

SS: You donít sound happy.

GK: Iím happy.

SS: If itís steak you crave, then just say steak.

GK: Chicken.

SS: Why donít I just put down steak.

GK: Why?

SS: Itís what you want.

GK: Didnít I say chicken?

SS: A mother can hear what you mean, Duane.

GK: Okay, steak.

SS: Youíre sure—

GK: I am.

SS: Okay then. You want that medium rare, medium, well-done, or what?

GK: Iíd like you to choose.

SS: Oh honey.

GK: Please.

SS: I canít choose for you.

GK: Just tell me how to have it.

SS: Well, how about medium rare?

GK: Fine. Medium rare.

SS: Youíre sure thatís what you want?

GK: Itís fine.

SS: Thatís what you always order.

GK: Good.

SS: If I were ordering for you, Iíd say medium.

GK: Medium then.

SS: Itís just safer.

GK: Medium.

SS: Of course well-done would be the safest.

GK: I want my steak well-done.

SS: Okay. Steak well-done. What kind of dressing?

GK: Can I call you back on that?

SS: Sure. Okay then.

GK: Okay, Mom.

SS: Bye now.

GK: Bye now.

SS: Love you.

GK: Love you too.

Old Sweet Songs: A Prairie Home Companion 1974-1976

Old Sweet Songs

Lovingly selected from the earliest archives of A Prairie Home Companion, this heirloom collection represents the music from earliest years of the now legendary show: 1974–1976. With songs and tunes from jazz pianist Butch Thompson, mandolin maestro Peter Ostroushko, Dakota Dave Hull and the first house band, The Powdermilk Biscuit Band (Adam Granger, Bob Douglas and Mary DuShane).

Available now»

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