Guy Noir, October 26, 2013

The Orpheum Theatre

Memphis, TN

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Guy Noir

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TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions… Guy Noir, Private Eye.

GK: It was October and summer was over, winter on its way, and what's worse, it was membership week at public radio and stations were pounding hard.

TR (ON RADIO, DISTRAUGHT): Listen, folks. If we don't get two more phone calls in the next ten minutes, I am going to have to sell my dog. (DOG WHINES) Can't afford his Ken-L-Ration any more. (DOG BARKS) Old Shep is going to have to be sold to a research facility----- unless you call in.....(DOG WOOF, FADING) Please. We need to hear from you.

GK: I was in Memphis where the public radio station had hired me to solve their tote bag problem.

BG: Noir? I'm Betty Bogart, development director. Mind if I smoke? (MATCH, INHALE, EXHALE)

GK: Like most development directors, she was drop-dead beautiful. She wore a tight black dress that did little to conceal the fact that she spent an hour a day at the gym. She put her hand on my arm and suddenly I felt warm, even feverish.

BG: Our Nina Totenberg tote bag is toast. Totally. We paid twenty-two cents for them and they came in taupe, tartan and tortoise and turns out the totes were made in a tattoo shop in Tiptonville, Tennessee, by tiny tots and truant teens and we had a tete-a-tete with our attorney and tort law says totes can't be made by tots without a tutor present, so tut-tut on us.

GK: So you need a new premium.

BG: There's no time for that. We need an angel.

GK: Oh?

BG: Somebody who can shower us with money right now.

GK: May I say something, Betty?

BG: Of course.

GK: Your hand on my arm.

BG: Does that bother you?

GK: It bothers me in a way I've always wanted to be bothered.

BG: It's what development directors are trained to do, Mr. Noir. Make a personal contact with big givers.

GK: I wish I were a big giver, Betty. I'd give it all to you.

BG: How much could you give?

GK: I could give you my body for research.

TR (ELVIS): Hey Mama, don't listen to him.

BG: Who are you?

TR (ELVIS): You don't remember me? Mr. Hunka hunka burning love?

GK: Elvis?

TR (ELVIS): Who are you?

GK: The name is Noir. Guy Noir.

TR (ELVIS): Well, listen to me, Chief. I think you better quit hitting on this lady and go pick on someone your own age.

BG: It's an honor to meet you, Elvis. But I have to say, I never was a big fan of your records.

TR (ELVIS): Hey— That's okay. Some of them I didn't care for myself.

BG: I'm more into classical music—

TR (ELVIS): Hey, I love classical music, Beethoven. Roll over, Beethoven. (HE SINGS THE OPENING BARS OF BEETHOVEN FIFTH) Love opera. (SINGS IN ITALIAN TO O SOLO MIO)

BG: Wow. You know Italian?

TR (ELVIS): Of course. It's the language of opera. Plus French, of course. (SINGS IN FRENCH "CAN'T HELP FALLING IN LOVE")

BG: Wow— Tres bon!

TR (ELVIS): Merci, mama.

GK: Elvis singing in French. Pretty amazing.

TR (ELVIS): Hey, when you're an international sensation, you got to try to understand the people who love you.

BG: I just never imagined you'd know French.

TR (ELVIS): Because of Graceland, right?

BG: Right.

TR (ELVIS): Didn't you ever have a bad decorator? Picked him out of the Yellow Pages and came back one day and the house was full of junk. I was planning to have it redone. Fill it with Ikea stuff, all white and shiny. So when people leave they go, "wow"- and not, you know. "whoa."

GK: So you were just about to re-do it?

TR (ELVIS): That's right, chief. Then I died. I was gonna do a lot of stuff. But regrets— I've had a few, too few to mention. Anyway, I've moved on. I get to travel now, you know. Anonymously. I went back-packing in Germany. (SINGS "ALL SHOOK UP" IN GERMAN)

BG: Is learning a language easier after you're dead?

TR (ELVIS): You got more free time after you're dead. You don't sleep. Just go, go, go.

BG: So what else you have time to do?

TR (ELVIS): Got time to talk to you, Mama. (KISS)

GK: Betty? Betty? ---- She disappeared the moment he kissed her. I guess ---- she went to be with him.


I dropped in at a bar on Beale Street. (DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, CLOSE, FOOTSTEPS, AMBIENCE).

FN: Hey. Come on in.

TR (ON THE RADIO, WEEPY): We've got two hundred bucks yet to go to make our goal this hour, and if we don't make it, I am personally going to stab myself with this fork. This fork right here in my hand. I am going to jab myself with it over and over and over until you people call in (ON, UNDER)

GK: Would you mind turning that off, please? Please.

FN: Oh. Sure. (TR FADES, AND OUT) So, where you from?

GK: Minnesota. Make me a pledge week Martini, wouldja?

FN: That's the one where I put it in the eyedropper....

GK: And give it to me one drop at a time...

FN: On your forehead.

GK: Right.


BG: Guy---- ?

GK: Betty. Where'd you go?

BG: Away. To a beautiful place. Like Graceland but no shag carpeting. Would you like to come?

GK: No, thanks.

BG: You sure?

GK: Very sure.

BG: It's wonderful here. Grassy lawns. Private jets. Terrific peanut butter. People adoring you.

GK: No, thanks.

BG: Lots of adoration.

GK: I don't go for adoration.

BG: And it's warm and sunny—

GK: I don't care for warm that much. Or sunny. I just like a regular life on earth, that's all.

BG: You like being cold?

GK: I like being warm when it's cold outside.

BG: Okay. Last chance—

GK: What do you like about being there, Betty?

BG: I like being with him.


GK: Okay. Bye. Have a nice after life.


TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions… Guy Noir, Private Eye.

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).

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