My Own Sun

This play uses two performers who perform as multiple characters while storytelling. Specific diction, language style, voice, and most notably cadence will be paramount in addition to visual cues to convey this to the audience. The script denotes these changes by using CHARACTER (as X) to show when a character is speaking for another not present. The speakers are quick talkers and say lines one over another, monologues can be done as rambles with quick pace. A “/” signifies the following line to begin over the one being spoken.

Lights up on a simple living room setting. There is a couch, chair, and table, and Center Stage is an accordion. There is an amplifier and cordovox out as well, vintage and oversized, far beyond working condition. A middle aged man, EDDIE, sits on the couch. He pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, looks it over, and rises, bracing himself before addressing the audience. 

EDDIE: The very first song I ever remember my dad playing on this old thing was O Sole Mio. An old Italian classic where all the lyrics and melodies just slide out in beautiful unending pulls and squeezes of this accordion, saying all it had to say in one big breath. I could describe my father in pretty much the same way. The accordion has always felt old and as if it’s lived through thousands of songs, I guess less back then. It certainly had a younger feel, my dad too- they both aged like good ‘ol vino, don’t get me wrong- but age catches you ya know. We all know. It’s why we’re here. (softly laughs to ease himself) You see, I can tell you every damn detail about this accordion believe it or not, hell, I only heard my dad talk about it every day and he’d tell the same story again and again and again, I couldn’t tell if he rehearsed that damn story more or his own band’s music for God’s sake. Best part is, he’d ask you if he’d told you. He’d ask and you’d say yeah, yeah, oh yeah, I know where you got it, I know how you played it, I know all of it. I know how it works, how it goes together, where you stored it and what model car you were driving- he always snuck in some backstory about a car- and despite knowing all of it, despite confirming you’ve heard it… that man would just say it again.

Entering Stage Right, an elderly man, NONNO, walks in, humming the tune of O Sole Mio. The humming slowly grows into barely audible lyrics that overlap with EDDIE. 

NONNO: Che bella cosa / una giornata di sole, un’aria serena… dopo la tempesta. Per l’aria fresca pare… giá una festa, che bella cosa una giornata di sole. 

EDDIE: He’d tell you just the same and even if you were tired of that story, you’d love the shit out of hearing it again. Every damn time. 

EDDIE walks away from Center Stage and circles the stage as if entering the living room for the first time. NONNO does not notice his presence. 

NONNO: Il sole mio sta in fronte a te, il sole, il sole mio/sta in fronte a te… 

EDDIE: Hey dad, how ya doing? 

NONNO: Aw Eddie, how you doin’? 

EDDIE: Dad, what is the accordion doing out here? Don’t tell me you got it down yourself again? That shit’s heavy dad. 

NONNO: Aw for crying out loud, I used to lug that thing up and out of my ol’ Ford every show. Pulled out that, my equipment, and all the guitarists’ ‘quipment no problem/ and that was damn there every weekend and the Ford had a low trunk if you come to think of it ‘pared to other models. 

EDDIE: Dad exactly, you aren’t the age you were when you had your band and because of all that is why you feel the way you do.

NONNO: Do you remember that old Ford, son? 

EDDIE: Dad, I drove it after you, yeah I remember it. ‘Remember that Ford?’

NONNO: Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Yeah, you drive the truck here? 

EDDIE: Yes, just came from the cherries. Rain blew ‘em to shit this year. Why’s your accordion out. You playing again? 

NONNO: Oh hell. No… no. Just fooling. Not playing nothing. 

EDDIE: That’s good dad. 

NONNO: No, it really ain’t. My damn hand. Can’t play for shit anymore. I be touching the keys and ain’t got any damn feeling in them, it’s like touching air. Plus my thumb’s are fatter. Barely can push a button without ‘em all punching in. 

EDDIE: You played O Sole Mio huh? You were humming it. 

(Lights change and NONNO pops out of story and talks TO AUDIENCE) 

NONNO (TO AUDIENCE): First song I learned was Sole Mio. Played it for my dad when I came home from my lesson. First lesson and came home ready to play him a song. Wasn’t just a ‘Mary had a Little Lamb’, I mean it was a simplified version, but I was pretty advanced. May as well have been Little Lamb though. My old man, you see, he was pretty rough around the edges, I tell you. I’d get down from practice, in those days I practiced third floor of the Teicher building on Pinot Street- no elevators, wasn’t like today. I’d carry my accordion up all those stairs (Laughing at self) Oh it’d weigh three times as me but I’d run up the stairs scared I’d be late but go down low-and-a-slow knowing it was my Dad who was picking me up. 

EDDIE now plays PASQUALE, NONNO’s Father, a rough, ornery man.

EDDIE (as PASQUALE): Eddie? Eddie! (Back as EDDIE) My dad’s name is Eddie too, by the way… always was confusing. (EDDIE back as PASQUALE) Eddie! What’s taking so long, damnit? For God’s sake, damnit. 

NONNO: Oh, hey Pops, I was just carrying- 

EDDIE (as PASQUALE): I want to hear you play. 

NONNO: Oh sure, Pops, I’m excited my teacher said I’m naturally/fast at it and…

EDDIE (as PASQUALE): Want to see exactly how my money is being wasted.

NONNO (TO AUDIENCE): He wanted a new song every class. If I didn’t perform, he’d stop lessons. Got pretty good at improvising. Probably what led to me writing so much music. 

(Lights return to room where EDDIE and NONNO are) 

EDDIE: You know, we gotta get you to play for the grandkids again, they’ve only really heard you the one time. It was really something special. You gotta play a song for them, maybe during the holiday or something. 

NONNO: Oh, I don’t know. 

EDDIE: Why not? 

NONNO: I’d gotta practice, I’m not ready to play for people. 

EDDIE: Aw hell, it’s family we aren’t gonna be harsh critics. 

NONNO: Well the truth is, I’m getting rid of this old thing. I can’t play anymore, Eddie. I want you to have it. 

EDDIE: Dad? What are you talking about?

NONNO: The accordion. 

EDDIE: No shit, dad. I can’t take it, that’s yours. Hell, I can’t play it. 

NONNO: Makes two of us. 

EDDIE: No dad, that’s different. You can still play. It’s yours. Always has been since you were nine. It was your life, for Christ’s sake. Your holidays, and weddings, and birthdays where you were performing ‘stead of resting and enjoying yourself. You can’t give up. What’s gotten into you, I can’t believe you’re thinking of throwing it all away just like that. 

NONNO: Eddie, passing it on to you isn’t throwing it away/ I’m keeping it in the family. 

EDDIE: Might as well be, dad, I never had a lesson. (TO AUDIENCE) That was something I never understood. He never gave me a lesson. I’d ask and ask and he’d tell me to play a sport, tell me to choose a hobby. Never once showed me. All I wanted was to get good enough to be on the stage with him. He never knew how bad I wanted it, though sometimes I’d try showing him but it always ended the same. Kinda led to some distance between him and I. Not that it was ‘cause of that, you know. Just, you see a spot where a fracture starts and other things chip at it. (Takes a look at NONNO) We only got closer since he’s been on his own after mom.

NONNO: Please, it's important to me. Or at least give it to Joey- 

EDDIE (TO AUDIENCE): My son. 

NONNO: -he can probably pick it up something easy, he got the drums down just like that. He’s got the natural ear. Or at least take good care. You could get him lessons, but only if he really wanted them.

EDDIE: Are you shitting me? Seriously dad? Where was this when I wanted lessons? When all I wanted to do was learn from you? Joey’s got drums. I made sure of that. I remember when he asked me. 

(Stepping out of story to act out EDDIE’s memory). 

NONNO (as JOEY): Hey dad, did you ever learn music? The way Nonno did with accordion? 

EDDIE: No, no. Never got around to it, I guess. Why do you ask? 

NONNO (as JOEY): I kinda wanna have something I can play, something I can know. Like Nonno does. Maybe have a band like his. Dad, I think you shoulda wanted to also. 

EDDIE (TO AUDIENCE): There ya have it. My own son. So we tried all the instruments out. Pretty awful at every pitch instrument there was, but thankfully percussion took him in well. Kid can really lay down a beat. 

NONNO (TO AUDIENCE): Telling Eddie no always was hard. I wanted him to have something he loved but didn’t want him locking himself onto something he believed was great. My first few years of lessons were great. Yeah, my father made some challenges, but I was making music! It was part of my life. But stuff gets hard yaknow. That’s what Eddie always struggled to understand. By the time he came along, the accordion wasn’t part of my life, it was my living. And it wasn’t music either, it was just sound. You know, there’s a moment, a scary moment, where you see yourself and it feels like you’re standing all alone. Looking at yourself from the outside in. Looking at yourself and you finally have some perspective on life. Finally see yourself on a stage, Christmas Eve, 2 AM wrapping a set for all the gathered families who could afford the entertainment I needed to provide. All that so my family could afford the gift’s my wife was putting out under the tree at that very moment. And she did it alone. I wasn’t there. I did my best to be awake through Christmas morning, hell, I was just as surprised as the kids were seeing what I got them for Christmas. I found a little cheap accordion one year. Thought it perfect for Eddie. Stored it at my parent’s so St. Nick wouldn’t be snooped out. Made the mistake of not wrapping it before letting my father see it. 

EDDIE (TO AUDIENCE): I’ll never forget seeing Joey react to getting his ride cymbal one year for Christmas. We didn’t know how to wrap it, it’s a cymbal for Christ’s sake. We tried several different things but eventually placed it inside a large pizza box. Moments like those I wanted to make for my son. 

NONNO (TO AUDIENCE): You see, all we are as generations is an overcorrection of what brought us into the world. When he looked at that toy accordion, I saw the same damn look in my father’s eyes that scared me to my core. That made my life a living, my music just sound, my art simply just fear. I remember playing for the family one Christmas trying out a real nice music stand he and mom got me. Lots of drinks and good spirits, then as the night went on and my music didn’t make its mark that stand was broken with one hard swing from my father when our guests were gone. Don’t know if it was actually meant to land on me. Don’t know if he was gonna miss. Will never know. My mom stepped in and kept me safe. But I didn’t forget those eyes. And when I saw them again, shit. History repeats and this time I gotta be the protector. I never gave that accordion to Eddie. I couldn’t. 

EDDIE (TO AUDIENCE): Joey played his cymbal for everyone that Christmas. Said he’d never loved a Christmas gift so much, even though he was a little disappointed when he found out it wasn’t an actual large pizza he’d be having for just himself. 

NONNO (Back to EDDIE): Okay, okay. I know you never had lessons, just wanted to keep it in the family somehow. Thought Joey could enjoy it. Ed, it wasn’t my choice to not get lessons for you, I-

EDDIE: Get lessons? No, dad I just wanted to learn from you for Christ’s sakes. Keep the music in the family. I don’t know do something with it. Hell, your band was called The Eddie Lucchesi Trio, and here’s your own son. Your own son, named Eddie Lucchesi whaddyaknow. For crying out loud, I don’t understand why I wanted that so bad. I always looked up to you for it. Always thought you were the coolest for it, then I just started realizing that really you were just not around. Ever. The music was your life not us. Not me. 

NONNO (TO AUDIENCE): You know. Right there was my moment to say it. To explain the whole lot of it. My father, my upbringing, my relationship with music. The fact I quit the band that very Christmas Eve when I realized where I was at. Where I wasn’t at. I regretted quite a bit of it that day. But I couldn’t live in that regret you see, I had to move forward. 

EDDIE (TO AUDIENCE): That was one of my last conversations with my father. Pains me to realize that was how it went. Still hard to think of it, but hey, gotta keep moving. Each day, there’s another sun that follows. 

NONNO (TO AUDIENCE): And how beautiful those suns are. You know, I questioned why I said nothing. Wasn’t pride, wasn’t fear of confrontation. No, no. It was that fragile facade of strength that still lived in me. Being a father who failed. Being a man who couldn’t do it all. Being a fella who tapped into his emotions. Being all the things my father made sure I’d never be. I told him eventually though. A long, long note that went with the will. With who got what. 

EDDIE pulls out the note and envelope from before. As NONNO speaks, EDDIE begins moving to the accordion, and sits behind it placing it in his lap. He begins playing an instrumental of O Sole Mio. 

NONNO (TO AUDIENCE): Lots of things to lots of people and lots to figure out, but nothing as easy as the accordion. To Eddie. My own son and my own explanations of my shortcomings and my own love that lives and breathes with the art, and life, and music, he’d bring back into that accordion.

EDDIE (singing): Che bella cosa una giornata di sole… 

NONNO (translating): What a beautiful thing, a sunny day.

EDDIE: un’aria serena… dopo la tempesta. Per l’aria fresca pare…

NONNO: The calm air after the storm. 

EDDIE: giá una festa, che bella cosa una giornata di sole…

NONNO: The fresh air feels like a celebration, what a beautiful sunny day.

EDDIE: O sole mio…

NONNO: My own sun…

EDDIE: Sta in fronte te…

NONNO: Stands in front of you…

EDDIE/NONNO: O sole mio, sta in fronte te. Sta in fronte te. 

The End.