To re-cap: I’m writing every day in June on my new play Slam. Slam is short for Samantha Lamb, a young woman from an old farm family, once powerful in the county. Slam’s life is about to change and not through her sound judgment or anyone’s good graces. Today’s subject? Read on….
Let’s talk Spoon. Yes. I’m a little tired this evening and need a pick-me-up. Spoon is just the man for that.
Spoon and Slam have known each other since they were kids. They are virtually the same age, graduated the same year from high school, and both more or less stuck around Mason. Spoon is eager, a little clumsy, and has an extraordinarily engaging style. His personal challenge? A poor attention span. He’ll come up with all sorts of schemes and plans, but virtually none come to fruition. Spoon’s blessing is he knows that about himself, shrugs happily, and moves on to the next project.
Why he and Slam remained close is a mystery. Slam, after all, isn’t much of a smiler. She’s got huge, demanding opinions and her crowd was the drug and nasties, which Spoon steered clear of. Yet somewhere they met up on the periphery and supported each other’s lives. Spoon used to pick up Bobby from school. Slam got Spoon his current job (more on that later.) And throughout the years they’ve come to rely on the rhythm of their relationship.
My visual for Spoon? The hook that tells me the man is in the play? It’s just this: he plops down at a table, flashes a toothy smile, and starts gesturing a story, or revealing his lastest scheme, which is always interesting and full of possibility. You can’t help but be taken in. Where did this guy come from? And why is he dressed that way?
In sum: it is Spoon’s easy acceptance of the world that is a balm for Slam. Slam pulls on fury like a uniform, but stays near people who shine their light.
All for now.