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Tuesday: Pootie Tang
10.15.2003 by Dan Beirne, every Wednesday.


Nathan Lane comes over every Wednesday to the house to watch a movie, or just chat with Dan. Dan found these little chats so interesting, he decided to tape-record them and tell the world all the neat things Nathan had to say about movies and stuff.


Tuesday, the second day, still haven't looked outside.

Pootie Tang (2001): The musician/actor/folk hero of the ghetto, is chronicled from his early childhood to his battles against the evil Corporate America.

This is not the movie "Pootie Tang". It is the stage adaptation, performed live by Dan's parents, Cynthia, Ruffles (Dan's dog), and a cardboard cut-out of Allen Ginsberg.

My Mom: ..I guess that's why they call you--

All: POOTIE TANG!

(much applause, amid calls of "wa-da-tay" and whistles. Nathan can do that whistling thing, but I never could)

My Dad: Thank you.

Ruffles: Thank you very much.

Nathan: See, that's theatre, Dan. Join us! Sit and talk!

Me: Hey, don't tell me.

My Mom: (sitting) So, what'd you think of that, you guys?

Nathan: Fantastic. As Kant would say, "The genius of the work both concealed and revealed itself simultaneously."

(silence)

Me: Sorry.

Cynthia: I get it.

My Dad: It's just nice to be done, you know? All that rehearsing, it's just nice to be finished.

Allen Ginsberg: Excellent idea, Patrick! Let's go in a circle, telling everyone what we're thankful for. Fitting, no?

Nathan: (softly, into the microphone) Who invited this guy?

Ruffles: The United Nations. An international body that's able to shake its proverbial finger at the questionable policies of the world.

My Dad: Uhh, medical science. And clean transport.

Cynthia: Poetry.

Allen Ginsberg: Holy Communion. And I don't mean the bread! (laughing hysterically)

Nathan: Yeah, we get it.

My Mom: Forgiveness.

Me: Um, family.

Nathan: (pretending to cough) Cop out!

Cynthia: Your turn, Nathan.

Nathan: I know.

(silence)

Nathan: Fuckin....I don't know.

Me: Good one.

Nathan: Right now!

(everyone suddenly acts as though they've been asked to dance)

My Mom: That's nice..

Ruffles: What a thing....so nice.

Me: Oh come on!

My Dad: We should go..

My Mom: I think so.

Allen Ginsberg: Night, gentlemen.

Nathan: Wait, do you all have to go?

(My clock is broken, but if it worked, it would have sounded midnight)

All: It's Wednesday, you guys have to start again.

Me: It's only..

Nathan: ..Wednesday.

(my picture of woody allen smiles. everyone exists/leaves)

Nathan: (approaching my computer, holding a movie) Is this chair free?

Me: I'm thankful we can do this.

Nathan: Sit on it.

as always, you can e-mail nathan.

Next Week: staving off cabin fever by inviting guests will only last so long..




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