So maybe this latest installment did nearly take a month to write. Oops....
Chapter Fourteen
"…and that is why I believe that as long as we are here for our children today, they will be here for the rest of the world tomorrow. Thank you."
And with a hearty round of applause, Rowlf the Dog walked off the stage at the ballroom to the strains of the children playing some Beethoven piece behind him. Scooter, naturally assuming the role of stagehand even when he wasn't running the event, was the first to greet him offstage.
"Great speech, Rowlf! You really had the crowd eating out of your hand!"
"Well, as long as they weren't eating off of my plate because I had a couple pieces of steak left. By the way, which way to the men's room?"
"Go out the back door here, then up the hall to the lobby, then past the bar, first door on the right."
"Thanks!"
Rowlf briskly made his way to the hallway. Making speeches was stressful; it was one thing to be on-stage with a piano, but another thing entirely to be on stage all by himself with no piano bench. You had to be intelligent, charming, warm, interesting, everything when talking to a crowd like this. It took a lot of rehearsal and deep breaths and note cards and drinks of water to get himself calmed down and ready to talk. And now all that water was coming back to haunt him.
Nearly running now, he passed the lobby, which was fairly quiet. A handful of tourist types coming in and out, while a couple of businessmen celebrated their latest deal at the bar. There also was a forlorn-looking bird of some kind at the end of the bar, but he didn't think much of it as he scurried into the lavatory.
"Darn automatic hand dryers. I need paper towels to prevent my fur from matting."
As Rowlf expressed his dislike for hand dryers as he walked out of the bathroom, his eyes met with the bird he had passed before. This was no strange bird, but Sam the Eagle, hunched over what appeared to be some sort of margarita, with a look of dismay and disgust over his face. The sight took Rowlf aback, as he had never seen Sam drink before. But he had also never seen Thog in a suit or Animal using a fork before, so tonight was proving to be a night full of firsts. He sat down on the stool next to Sam.
"Sam? What's going on?"
He just looked down at his strawberry margarita before mumbling "Nothing. I'm fine. Go away."
"I don't think so. Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes." Sam's words seemed to slur a bit.
"Are you really, really sure?"
"Yes."
Rowlf stayed on the stool next to Sam for a couple more minutes, as he knew that Sam would likely start talking at some point. Drinking led to that in some people.
"Rowlf, you're my, um, friend, right?"
"Yes, Sam, we're good friends."
"And you've known me for a long time, since back, um, when we lived in London."
"Yes, that was back when you joined the gang."
"So you know I'm a good person. I don't cheat on my taxes! I don't take change out of vending machines that isn't mine! I always hold doors open for the infirm!"
We're not supposed to take that change out of the vending machine? Oops. Rowlf had a momentary pang of guilt before Sam continued his questioning.
"So I just don't know WHY everyone here thinks I'm a bad person! Those hash-smoking rascals in the Mayhem just told me I wasn't proud of my children! How would they know that?"
"They're just talking about what they see from you."
"So you think I'm not proud of them either? Judgmental mongrel!"
Rowlf took a deep breath. This was going to take a while.
"Sam, you have two very nice children. I've worked at the after school program with Hillary for nearly two months now and she definitely is going to make a great teacher in a couple of years, and Andrew does great work on the set, so-"
"And that's because Matty and I taught them well!"
"Yes, you guys did and-"
"So then why is everybody giving me such a hard time?"
Rowlf sighed, then waved to the bartender. "I'll have two waters please."
"Put a lemon in mine!"
Sam then returned to his slumped pose and depressed monologue. "Just because I still like to make sure my children have values doesn't mean I'm bad."
"Sam, your children are older now. They don't need you to spoon-feed them everything."
He looked up at Rowlf. "But then they might make the wrong choice."
"Kids need to make mistakes sometimes. It's how you learn. I'm sure you made some mistakes when you were younger."
"Yes. I supported Pat Robertson in the 1988 Republican primaries. Waste of a vote."
"Well, as obscure as that mistake may be, you learned something from that, right?"
"Yes. To always support the front-runner. So much easier that way."
"So if you can learn from your mistakes, why can't Andrew and Hillary?"
"Because if they listen to ME, then they won't make any mistakes in the first place."
Rowlf wished he ordered something stronger than a water as he took a long sip from his glass.
"Sam, when I was done with high school, I had a scholarship offer to study music at Boston College-"
"Hotbed of liberal thought. Pssh!"
"But I wanted to go out on my own, I wanted to tour and play in a band, to see the music scene. My parents weren't for it, but they knew that I was going to have to see for myself what happened out there. So they let me go out there."
"They should have sent you to a military college! Virginia Military Institute, I hear they're excellent!"
"They told me there was always a place for me at home if I wanted to come back. The first few months on the road were hard. I was playing jazz piano backing up "Randy Gnu and the Gnoobers Jazz Singers" through their tour of northern Ohio. Sleeping in crummy hotels, playing to twenty people a gig, getting paid in bags of Snyder's Pretzels. But I learned so much from it, and after awhile I met Jimmy Dean after a gig, and one thing led to another."
"Congratulations. Love his sausages."
"Yes, they are quite good. But that's not the point. My parents may have thought I was making a mistake, but they knew it was my decision, so they let me go through with it. I was an adult."
"So you're saying that I should just let my children do whatever they want, even if it's OBVIOUSLY the wrong choice."
Rowlf took a sip out of his water. "Yes. I can imagine that's hard as a parent, but I think it's only fair to your children. Andrew and Hillary are good people. They deserve to be given the chance to make their own decisions."
Sam didn't say anything to that.
"Look Sam, don't you have any faith in your kids and what you've taught them?"
"What do you mean?"
"If you've worked so hard to teach them all these years, what makes you think they haven't learned yet?"
"What-well-I-"
Rowlf stretched his arms and stood up. It was about time to get back to the ballroom. Dessert was being served soon, and that couldn't be missed.
"All I'm trying to say is that if you've worked hard to teach someone something, they've got to be tested one of these days. That's what your wife does, right? Teach her students the material and then test them."
"Well, yes."
"So give your kids a chance to see if they've learned. I think you'll see that they did."
"mmmmrrrrrr……." Sam mumbled in Rowlf's direction.
"Now, come on! It's time for dessert. They have all kinds of cake, and pie, and ice cream. If that won't make you feel better then I don't know what will. Let's go!"
Sam slowly stirred from his seat, only stopping to peel a few dollars out of his wallet for his drinks. Rowlf was standing by the bar waiting when he stopped a crowd of people running out of the ballroom towards the door.
"Yes! We got the cake cart! Let's go!"
A cart full of cakes went whizzing down the hall, several rats led by Rizzo riding shotgun, followed by an exasperated Kermit and several hotel staff members.
"Guys! Come on! Come back with that cake!"
Rowlf blinked several times before turning back to Sam.
"Well, hope you weren't too excited about the cake."
**************
Coming up in Chapter Fifteen: Rashida Jones' true identity is questioned and the script is debated backstage at the Muppet Theater.
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