The Front Page Reloaded, Pt II


For Pt 1., click here

(A spotlight on BLOOM. He’s a pudgy man in his forties.)

BLOOM
As the publisher of a major metropolitan high-school newspaper, I believe journalistic integrity to be of penultimate importance. Second most important is mastery of the English Language.

(BLOOM’s classroom. MAURY sits in a chair, defiant. BLOOM looks through a take-out menu.),

MAURY
I didn’t want to do just another cafeteria review. I wanted -- you know -- to really evoke the truth of the cafeteria. There’s the factual truth, and then there’s the poetic truth.

BLOOM
I see. In this case, the factual truth was that Sloppy Joes are served on Fridays, and the poetic truth is that the meat is made from discarded tumors.

MAURY
Exactly.


BLOOM
But the problem is, it really isn’t true.

MAURY
Ah, it’s not factually true.

BLOOM
And the people who ate the Sloppy Joes took it to be so.

MAURY
I can’t be held responsible for what a bunch of rubes from
West Virginia think.

BLOOM
You know, they have excellent fishing there.

MAURY
Okay, Paw. Go shuck the crawdads. I was just trying to describe the fading way of life that is the cafeteria.

BLOOM
I don’t think it’s -

MAURY
“The sun sets over the half-pints of chocolate milk. The hairnet is going the way of the beanie and the stevedore.”

BLOOM
Yeah, and which way is that?

MAURY
You know, Telemundo.

BLOOM
Okay, which, even if it were relevant, wouldn’t change the fact that now I can’t look at Sloppy Joes without seeing your evoked tumors. Every Friday at lunch, I have to sort through the thin delivery options. Do you have any idea what passes for Mu Shu around here?

MAURY
Fricasseed hobo bladder in -

BLOOM
Never mind. The point is -

MAURY
You’re suspending me from the paper. Well I hope you’re proud of yourself, you sister-marrying bunion wagon.

BLOOM
I want you to go back to the cafeteria and write the story again. This time you can find your color from what’s actually there.

MAURY
Fine, I have to go to the basement anyway.

BLOOM
Maury...the cafeteria’s not in the basement.

MAURY
Right, I meant the uh the cafeteria, I have to go there.

BLOOM
Where?


MAURY
The cafeteria.


BLOOM
Which is where?

MAURY
(Beat.) In the school.

(Spotlight on BLOOM.)

BLOOM
It’s illegal to accept money from the parents in exchange for positions on the paper. All that happened was, Maury’s parents made me aware of the fact that there was a serious under-representation of Maury on the paper. I’m against discrimination of any student whose Dad owns a liquor distributor.
(The teacher’s lounge. DEARDRA, a boutiquely-dressed woman in her early thirties, sorts apples from oranges. BLOOM sits with her.)

BLOOM
So finally I said to the kid, “I’m just kidding, your insulin is right here in my desk.” You can bet we had a good laugh.

DEARDRA
You must be great fun in hospitals.

BLOOM
Yeah, have you ever tried ether?

DEARDRA
I don’t think so.

BLOOM
Seriously, I just wanted to apologize -- you know -- to all you lunch ladies.

DEARDRA
Juvenile Nutritionists.


BLOOM
Beg pardon?


DEARDRA
Our title is “Juvenile Nutritionists.” It requires a Masters Degree. Lunch Ladies only need a recommendation from their parole officer.

BLOOM
Well, it’s good they’re putting their lives back together. Anyway, you can rest assured that Maury will be filing a much more accurate report this time.

DEARDRA
Let me ask you something, Bloom. Do you actually read the articles your students file before printing them?

BLOOM
I give them a good once-over.

DEADRA
And what does that entail?

BLOOM
Scanning it for my name. I’m kidding, kidding. I didn’t look at this article as closely as I should have because normally the author is very accurate and reliable. Now, would you care to join me in a glass of Frangelico?

DEARDRA
Why not, everyone else here has it on their breath.
(BLOOM pours glasses, hands on to her during the following:)
Actually, I’ve had an interest in Journalism since I was a kid.

BLOOM
Really?
God, not me. I wanted to be an astronaut.

DEARDRA
You know, there’s some kids I’ve been talking to who are interested in journalism too, but they haven’t been able to find a spot on your paper. Kirsten Carter, Mike Levinson, Andy Dreiss...

BLOOM
Names don’t ring a bell.

DEARDRA
Well, none of their parents own liquor distributorships.

BLOOM
Oh wait, yes, I remember Andy Dreiss. His brother was the one they found in the clock tower with the sniper rifle.

DEARDRA
I was thinking, since there’s no room for these kids on your paper, I’d like to head up a little paper for them. You know, sort of an alternative weekly, about fashion, music trends that kids are interested in.

BLOOM
Oh, like the Rapping.

DEARDRA
(Beat.)Yes. Exactly like the Rapping. Mr. Coakley said I’d need to get your okay before starting up.
(She leans in close to him.)
Of couse, I’d appreciate any advice you might have for me.
(BLOOM takes his glass of Frangelico into the spotlight)

BLOOM
Now, my first instinct with a woman is to burn her to CD and hide her under the bed, but that doesn’t seem right. Anyway, she didn’t need to flirt with me. I’m all for free market competition. I think it’d be nice to have a
sort-of Village Voice around here, printing delicious skewers of the GOP, thoughtful essays by Noam Chomsky, tales of the nightlife by the ever-petulant Michael Musto.
(DEARDRA passes through, hands BLOOM a copy of her paper, exits.)
Ah, here’s the first edition.
(He reads:)
“The Recess Press.” That’s got a nice, proletariat ring to it. “We Report. You Decide.” That sounds fair and balanced. Let’s see what the lead article...oh, it’s about me, isn’t that sweet. Maybe her flirting was a little more serious than I thought. “Mr. Bloom, that old tortoise of the School Newspaper, was once again caught with his journalistic fly open, revealing his elderly, mole-dappled trouser snake of anti-cafeteria bias.” (Beat.) Always remember, folks, Lunch Ladies prefer to be called “Juvenile Nutritionists.”

June 13th, 2003: NY Times Claims More Blair Fraud, 11 stories involve plagiarism or errors