| The nineteen-seventies. Most teenagers of today think our parents made them up just to scare us into eating our crusts, but the fact of the matter is, the 70s were real, and they were a time more horrible than anything we people of the modern era can imagine. They were a time when the natural laws that govern our universe had been turned on their heads. Some attribute this to the drug abuse of the previous decade, but students of advanced chaos theory, and anyone who has ever watched the contemporary popular television programme "The Mod Squad" will tell you that the truth is far, far more sinister. Of course, the youth of the time had no idea. They were happy to strut around with little doilies on their multicoloured tuxedoes, and assume hairstyles large enough to suffocate a roomful of puppies. "But, not everyone could have been non compis mentis! " the average young person of today will cry out. And we wish that were true, but sadly, it is not the case. Most people like to pretend that they never really happened, but sometimes, to move on, we have to come to terms with the past. Imagine, if you can, that you are living in the 1970s. An abhorrent plague is sweeping the free world, sparing few in its minatory path. It lingers everywhere, in the discos, in the lighting, even in something called "shag-pile carpet". Although unabating, it strikes particularly hard on one night of the week. It is referred to by those who suffer from it as the Saturday Night Fever. There is, at this stage, no effective vaccine. (Perhaps some of the BeeGees "Night Fever" plays? A disco scene. People on stage. Use your imagination) Keith (to woman): Hey baby! How about we get a little "Night Fever" on right now? Woman: What does that even mean you idiot? Keith: A little "Jive Talkin'"! A bit of the old "Spics and Specs"? Woman: Piss off, you babbling cretin! (she walks away) Keith: Oh man, that's the third time tonight. I'm never gonna reach second base! (Peter, a suave character, dances onto stage, covered in women) Peter: Hey, relax ladies. The sixties may be over, but I can still have you all tonight! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and console my compadre. Be back in a few. Girls (in unison) Sure Peter! Peter (to self): Boy, I'm sure glad feminism hasn't come to Australia yet. (moves over to Keith) Peter: Hey buddy! You look more down than a girl on me! Keith: Hey Pete. How do you mend a broken heart? How do you stop the rain from falling down? Peter: Last time I stayed out in the rain, my jump-suit turned pink. Keith: Yes, I remember. Pete, I've got a question. How do you get so many chicks? Peter: Well, generally, it helps if you're good looking. Then, you patronise them, preferably making use of the word "Sheila", they giggle, and then you're home. Keith: I've been trying that, but they keep telling me to get lost. Peter: Well Keith, that's because you're ugly. It works every time for me. (The girls return to stage) Girls: Hey Pete, we were just talking to this lady Fay Weldon, and apparently, you're a complete pig. We're really sorry. Peter: No, don't get hung up about it. It had to happen eventually. Girls: Thanks Pete. (They walk off stage) Peter: Well Keith, there is one other way. Can you dance? Keith: I've never tried. Peter: Well, it just so happens that you're in luck. You stand in the presence of the one they call the Lord of the Dance. Keith: You? Peter: Yes, me Keith. (Boogie Fever begins to play) Peter: And this is how it's done. (proceeds to dance, dance, dance. Two girls run up to him. Lights and music fade down. Lights and music ("Tragedy") fade in. More girls are dancing with Pete. Keith is still watching. Lights and music fade down. Lights and music ("Your Disco Needs You") fade in. Many, many girls are dancing with Peter. Keith looks exasperated. Lights and music fade down. Lights fade back in. Keith sitting on a chair. Peter walks across otherwise empty stage and sits down next to him. Peter: Whoa. That was intense. Did you make use of my mentoring? Keith: No! You kept dancing with them until they all passed out from exhaustion! Peter: Oh yeah. Well, at least we all learnt a lesson today… Keith: Tonight. Peter: …and that was "Say no to drugs". Keith: You were doing cocaine! Peter: Yes, and I learnt my lesson, didn't I? Keith: What lesson? All I learnt tonight was that however hard I try, I'm never going to be able to compete with jerks like you who take girls before they even get a chance to look at me! Peter: Trust me buddy; in your case, that's a good thing. Keith: What? I….you're supposed to….I'm gonna kill myself! No! I'm gonna kill you! Peter (standing up): Hey! Calm down! After all, this is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius! Keith: (he sighs) Maybe you're right. Maybe I should just learn to… Peter:…even for losers like you! But don't kill yourself! Get up and dance! (Keith looks nonplussed. Everybody possible runs on stage and dances to "Stayin'Alive", around Keith standing in front in the middle. He walks off-stage) So, as you can see, the seventies weren't that bad for everyone. It was mostly just bad for the losers. A lot like today, really. In fact, the worst thing that the seventies ever produced was the decade that followed them, an unspeakably nightmarish period called the eighties. But no-one wants to watch a play about them. |
| Written on request for students of Gosford High, for...well, I wasn't really listening when they told me. Some end of year...thing which required a play on this topic. Gosford High is the home of Ruth, Dannie, Zigis, Duncy, "Rachel The Slut", and the mysterious School Spec Violist Clare, whom the others swear they've never heard of. |