used Steely Dan music for our transitions. Tracking down and acquiring the rights to those recordings was a job of work. Very special thanks to Lindsay Allbaugh, Eric Sims, Nausica Stergiou, David Leinheardt, Sara Danielsen, Christie Evangelista, Reed Wilkerson, Billy Petersen, Alan Rosenberg, Irving Azoff, and the Estate of Walter Becker. And thanks to the man himself, Donald Fagen, for making it happen.
For good listening and wise counsel, I thank Anna D. Shapiro, Michael Ritchie, Jon Berry, Aaron Carter, Hallie Gordon, Dianne Nora, Laura Dupper, Juli Del Prete, and Ron Gwiazda. Valuable workshop help was provided by Dianne Doan, Sandra Marquez, and Rachel Sondag. Dear friends Bob Fisher, Loren Lazerine, Scott Morfee, David Pasquesi, and Jeff Still all made contributions, whether they know it or not. And Carrie Coon is the best first reader any writer could hope for.
Fifty: it is a dangerous age—for all men, and especially for one like me who has a tendency to board sinking ships. Middle age has all the scares a man feels halfway across a busy street, caught in traffic and losing his way, or another one blundering in a black upstairs room, full of furniture, afraid to turn on the lights because he’ll see the cockroaches he smells. The man of fifty has the most to say, but no one will listen. His fears sound incredible because they are so new—he might be making them up. His body alarms him; it starts playing tricks on him, his teeth warn him, his stomach scolds, he’s balding at last; a pimple might be cancer, indigestion a heart attack. He’s feeling an unapparent fatigue; he wants to be young but he knows he ought to be old. He’s neither one and terrified. His friends all resemble him, so there can be no hope of rescue. To be this age and very far from where you started out, unconsoled by any possibility of a miracle—that is bad; to look forward and start counting the empty years left is enough to tempt you into some aptly named crime, or else to pray. Success is nasty and spoils you, the successful say, and only failures listen, who know nastiness without the winch of money. Then it is clear: the ship is swamped to her gunwales, and the man of fifty swims to shore, to be marooned on a little island, from which there is no rescue, but only different kinds of defeat.
—PAUL THEROUX, SAINT JACK
Well the danger on the rocks is surely past
Still I remain tied to the mast
Could it be that I have found my home at last
Home at last
—WALTER BECKER AND DONALD FAGEN, “HOME AT LAST”
LINDA VISTA
PRODUCTION HISTORY
Linda Vista had its world premiere at Steppenwolf Theatre Company (Anna D. Shapiro, Artistic Director; David Schmitz, Executive Director) in Chicago, on April 9, 2017. It was directed by Dexter Bullard. The scenic design was by Todd Rosenthal, the costume design was by Laura Bauer, the lighting design was by Marcus Doshi, the sound design was by Richard Woodbury; the dramaturg was Edward Sobel and the stage manager was Christine D. Freeburg. The cast was:
| WHEELER | Ian Barford |
| PAUL | Tim Hopper |
| MICHAEL | Troy West |
| ANITA | Caroline Neff |
| MINNIE | Kahyun Kim |
| MARGARET | Sally Murphy |
| JULES | Cora Vander Broek |
This production of Linda Vista opened at Center Theatre Group (Michael Ritchie, Artistic Director; Douglas C. Baker, Producing Director) in Los Angeles, on January 9, 2019. The creative team remained the same, with the following exception: the production stage manager was David S. Franklin. The cast remained the same, with the following exception:
| MINNIE | Chantal Thuy |
This production of Linda Vista opened on Broadway at the Helen Hayes Theater on October 10, 2019. It was produced by Second Stage (Carole Rothman, President and Artistic Director; Casey Reitz, Executive Director) in association with Center Theatre Group. The creative team remained the same as the Center Theatre Group production, with the following exception: the production stage manager was James Harker. The cast remained the same, with the following exception:
| PAUL | Jim True-Frost |
CHARACTERS
WHEELER, fifty
PAUL, fifty
MICHAEL, mid-fifties
ANITA, mid-thirties
MINNIE, twenties
MARGARET, fifty
JULES, late thirties
SETTING
Various locations in San Diego.
Act One
SCENE 1
Wheeler’s new apartment.
Wheeler and Paul.
WHEELER: Thanks.
PAUL: You don’t have that much stuff.
WHEELER: Know what I say when someone asks me to move their shit?
PAUL: What?
WHEELER: “No.”
PAUL: Has anyone ever asked you? I wouldn’t ask you.
WHEELER: Well, no, probably no one’s ever asked me. But I can tell you what I wouldn’t say, I wouldn’t say, “Oh, hey, I’d love to help you out but I slammed my dick in a car door and I gotta go to the doctor.”
PAUL: You wouldn’t say that, huh?
WHEELER: Point is, I don’t lie.
PAUL: You don’t lie in response to a question no one’s asked you?
WHEELER: Want to get a bite to eat? Want to get some Mexican? On me.
PAUL: I can’t, Margaret and I have a dinner thing. Old friends of Margaret’s. They’re in town.
WHEELER: They’re not staying with you, are they?
PAUL: Just tonight. They’re in for a wedding tomorrow. So we’re going out to dinner. Fleming’s.
WHEELER: You seem enthusiastic.
PAUL: It’s all right. It’s fine. They’re old friends and we don’t have a lot in common anymore, you know?
WHEELER: That’s why new friends are better than old friends.
PAUL: You think?
WHEELER: Cause of what you said, we lose whatever we had in common with old friends, we change. Why do we have to stick with old friends forever? They’re not family. We should be able to just trade in old friends for new ones.
PAUL: What about loyalty?
WHEELER: Loyalty to an idea is better than loyalty to people.
PAUL: No. You believe that?
WHEELER: Loyalty to people is how you wind up camping with Hitler.
PAUL: And he was not a good camper. One thing with these friends, they’re so conservative politically?
WHEELER: Which is exactly what I’m saying. Don’t tell me they’re Trump voters.
PAUL: I don’t know, I’m afraid to bring it up.
WHEELER: