Inspired by my feverish anticipation of two upcoming concerts … and by a certain Woody Allen film (with apologies to all concerned).
Scene: A doctor’s office. The MOTHER enters with her young SON, who sits in a chair before the doctor’s desk. The MOTHER hovers nearby.
MOTHER: Thank you for seeing us, Dr. Flicker. I’m at my wit’s end.
DOCTOR: What seems to be the trouble?
MOTHER: He says he’s depressed! Nine years old, and he’s depressed!
DOCTOR: Why are you depressed, Alvy?
[The SON sits, hanging his head.]
MOTHER: [Answering for him] He says it’s something he read.
DOCTOR: [Amused] Something he read, huh?
SON: The universe is expanding.
DOCTOR: The universe is expanding?
SON: Well, the universe is everything, and if it’s expanding, someday it will break apart, and that would be the end of everything!
MOTHER: What is that your business? [She turns to the DOCTOR.] He’s stopped doing his homework!
DOCTOR: The universe won’t be expanding for billions of years yet, Alvy. And we’ve got to try to enjoy ourselves while we’re here!
MOTHER: What has the universe got to do with it? You’re here in France! France is not expanding!
SON: [Continuing as if he hasn’t heard anything they’ve said] And if everything comes to an end, I might not get to attend the concerts by Joyce DiDonato and Susan Graham next week! And in that case, what’s the point of living?
DOCTOR: [Suddenly serious] I see. Alvy, would you mind waiting outside for a minute?
SON: Might as well. It’s not going to make any difference, anyway. [He exits.]
DOCTOR: Mrs. Singer, how long has Alvy been listening to mezzo-sopranos?
MOTHER: Why — I don’t know. It all started with Marilyn Horne, I guess. Is there a problem, Dr. Flicker?
DOCTOR: Mrs. Singer, I’m going to level with you. Alvy may be suffering from Mezzomania, a possibly fatal condition.
MOTHER: But Marilyn Horne!
DOCTOR: Yes, yes, I know, it seems harmless enough to begin with. I mean, how can you like music and not like Marilyn Horne? But then you keep going … and going … until you’re listening to Susan Graham, Joyce DiDonato, Joyce Castle, Cecilia Bartoli, Vivica Genaux, Angelika Kirchschlager, Bernarda Fink, Anne Sofie von Otter, the list goes on.
MOTHER: You’re telling me! They’re all he wants to talk about. He’s just crazy about his mezzos.
DOCTOR: Literally, I’m afraid. And then comes the harder stuff, Dolora Zajick and Stephanie Blythe.
MOTHER: Oh, Dr. Flicker! Just yesterday I caught him locked in the bathroom, listening to Ewa Podleś.
DOCTOR: A contralto! Why didn’t you tell me this immediately?
MOTHER: I didn’t realize —
DOCTOR: We’re going to have to operate immediately. Time is of the essence! If we don’t act now, he could start listening to —
MOTHER: [Horrified, sobbing] Countertenors!
DOCTOR: I’m afraid so. Mrs. Singer, you did the right thing in coming here today. And with any luck, Alvy will be back to normal in no time.
SON: [Sticking his head in the door] Is this going to take much longer? Because I don’t want to miss Frederica Von Stade’s farewell.
DOCTOR: [On intercom] Nurse, cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day, and call an ambulance. This is an emergency!
3 comments:
Dear Dr. Flicker: Can I make an appointment? I suffer from the same symptoms as Alvy. That (occasionaly)red-headed woman seems to be the root cause of my problems.
I'll schedule treatment immediately. We're expecting a rise to pandemic levels following Joyce's concerts in Paris next week; the waiting room will be crowded, but we will do everything possible to treat everyone.
Sincerely,
Dr. Flicker
I caught the virus LONG AGO... It might be too late for me...
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