Salinger's Sitcom

He can’t find the right rhythm

To the joke

Sitting in his office

With a freshly lit cigarette

Withering away in the ashtray beneath him

He stares at his computer

As if the answer’s locked somewhere behind the screen

And he has to pull it out

Using only his unsullied attention

‘JD?’

Kirstin knocks on the door

And pops her head in

He looks up at her

But doesn’t say anything

‘How are the pages coming?’

He picks up the cigarette

Takes a drag

And then plants it back in the ashtray

Kirstin’s been working with him long enough now

To get the message

‘I’ll tell them you need a little more time,’ she says

Already pressing a button her headset

And heading back downstairs

To try and calm the network flunkies

J.D. Salinger, one of the greatest writers of all time

Stumped on a stupid sex joke

He shouldn’t even be here

His very presence in this office

In this building

With the soundstage for a sitcom called ‘Hey New Hampshire!’ directly below him

Was chipping away at his legacy

Bit by bit

Once upon a time, he dreamed of being a recluse

But Hollywood came calling with a blank check

And so he moved to Los Angeles

And wrote one of the best adaptations of a book ever

‘Catcher’ won five Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Adapted Screenplay

And from then on in, he was hooked

There was no going back to a quiet little life spent typing out stories that would never be published

Or spending time with young women who wanted to bask in his glow

Now there was work to be done

And the first order of business

Was to follow up ‘Catcher’

With ‘Franny’

Which, unfortunately, did not do as well

As J.D.’s first debut film

Hollywood allows for a certain amount of failure, however

And his next movie, an original story he came up with

About teenagers in Boston in the 1920’s

Was received very well

And he added another Oscar to his mantle

The trouble started a few years

--And a few more failed movies

After that

When his drinking got a little out of control

And Hollywood became a little too jumpy

To insure him

Well…not all of Hollywood

TV was more than thrilled to take a risk

On one of American’s most prestigious writers

And so J.D. Salinger wound up working on a drama

Called ‘Blue Fields’ which was a huge hit

And which cemented him back in place

As a writer for the visual medium

Even if the medium had gotten a lot smaller

‘Blue Fields’—a family drama set during the 60’s

Ended up being the tv version of his ‘Catcher’ success

When it ended after an eight-year run

He tried following it up with another family drama

Only to have it last half a season

Before being put out of its misery

That was around the time he was sued

For a variety of things

--Hang out in California long enough

And somebody’s bound to sue you for something

There was no shame in it

But hiring lawyers did make the coffers run pretty dry

So he started taking work he needed

Rather than work he wanted

And that was how he found himself

Working on sitcoms

Like ‘Hey New Hampshire!’

What startled him was that he was actually good at writing bad jokes

And predictable situations for only half-drawn characters

Compared to crafting a decent short story

It was a walk in the park

At least, it had been for a few years

Until Salinger felt the monotony of it all

Start to weigh on him

And that’s how he found himself

Staring at a computer screen

Trying to think up a joke

About boobs

‘The problem is I can’t say tits,’ he told himself,

‘If I could just use the word tits…’

But the problem was much bigger than that

He hadn’t written anything worthwhile in years

Hell, he didn’t even have an idea for a story or novel

And every once in awhile some asshole online

Would publish an article about the man he used to be

What was I supposed to do, he wanted to ask them

Write a few novellas and the greatest American novel since Gatsby

And then disappear forever?

People have to work

People have to live

People have to screw up

It’s a crucial part of life

The rise and fall

You can’t get out of it

You can’t get away from it

And you can’t just call it quits

If you’re a writer, you have to write

And you have to write things people can read or hear

Otherwise, what’s the point?

Who would you be writing for?

He takes another drag off his cigarette

And places his hands softly on the keyboard

So as not to lose the little joke

That’s just landed on his fingertips

‘…AMY…’

He writes the character’s name, and then—

‘Well, at least if the boat sinks, I know I can float!’

He could almost hear the canned laughter in his head

Another cigarette drag

A click of the mouse

A twist in his arm

To crack a few of his bones

And that was it

You gotta work, he thinks to himself

No matter what

You gotta work