That
is what used to go through my head for two years after I finished the script
for Squiggy And The Goldfish- those horrible, empty and true words.
I had very few close friends growing up in Rhode Island. One of my closest friends, well, we were inseparable. We even looked alike so much that our parents sometimes got confused who was who when we playing in the yard or generally causing mischief. Since my name is Lenny, his parents and my parents decided to nickname him Squiggy after the characters on television’s Laverne and Shirley. Yes, we are very original here in RI.
He used to have this goldfish at his house- the fish used to stare at you. In 1995, I made a decision to write plays. One of my first plays I would write would be a play called Squiggy and the Goldfish. I was only interested in comedy writing at that time and I told my friend. He laughed at the title stating, “Nobody would ever produce that.” I laughed back and told him one day not only would it be produced but it is a play people would remember- a fun comedy about our childhood. I started on it in January 1995 and finished the first draft that spring.
Shortly after my friend- my childhood Squiggy- and I grew apart because I was an anorexic. I was sick and dealing with my own problems and I never saw him again.
I had just finished the script for the Scarecrow. The Scarecrow was a play about my life as an anorexic. My mom came in from work and told me she had seen my childhood friend. She had his phone number and told me to call him. He was with his girlfriend who my mom said seemed nice. I was going to call him. This was Monday.
And on Friday night he killed himself.
I went to his funeral. All the memories flooded back. I met his girlfriend, the one my mom said was nice. I talked to her and took her home with a few friends.
And on that night she killed herself.
So many things were said about the two- but here is the truth. He had a horrible life. A life I never knew. A life where he was abandoned by his family. Cut off. So he made a few cuts of his own. And that was life. A life where he self-mutilated. He cut into himself and died in a horrible empty way- even more so from the outside. One night he had cut too deep.
His girlfriend? She was beaten by everyone in her life. Ex boyfriends. Parents. Abused sexually. Emotionally. They were two forgotten people.
Yet they found each other.
Through all of the terrible things in their lives they found each other.
People never realize how beautiful they are. And I mean every person. Even the abandoned. And it matters. It matters that these two people existed. It matters they lived and it matters that they were here in this crazy place we call every day life.
It’s
why this play exists.
I finished Squiggy And The Goldfish in 2005. It took ten years. I would have spent ten more if it needed it. It had a showing in RI in 2005 and is now being directed by one of my best friends in the world Michael Roderick.
A friend of mine had to die so this play could exist.
Two in fact.
It is important we see their story.
