Bunim: Do you have any idea what Jay's play is about?
Murray: Um, let me get my notes. Let's see...oh, here it is! It's story of a kid who can't get to sleep, so he starts to perform monologues in the middle of the night in his bedroom.
Bunim: No way!
Jay's play goes on. We hear all these wistful cornpone stories about things he did as a naïve kid, and about his hopes and dreams. He also slips in some strange, unexplained story about a time someone shot at him while he was trying to play basketball. "He owns the stage when he comes out there," says Kat in an interview. "As soon as he was on stage, it was his." Yes, Kat, Jay does indeed own the stage. The entire set is made up of objects from his very own bedroom. But lest you think Jay's play is full of exciting, sexy story lines culled from his own thrill-a-minute life, there are important lessons to be learned too. "Seventeen-year-old males spend the majority of their waking hours engaged in the pursuit of three elusive goals," says Jay, portentously wagging his index finger at the audience. "Sex, freedom, and...well, sex." The audience finds this hilarious and...well, so does Jay, who laughs right along with everyone. Although I'm sure Mike was probably still scratching his head and going, "But that's only two things!"
"The thing about being seventeen is that you come to a point where you stand up and look at what's around you," says Jay onstage, all intense and actor-y. "Some grab a forty. Some run with a gang. Some hide behind their homework. Me? I just can't get to sleep." Well, fortunately that's not exactly the audience's problem; everyone watching seems to be sleeping. Well, maybe not everyone. I'm sure there are some people who left to go grab a forty, run with a gang, or hide behind their homework. So then, at some point in the play, according to Jay in a confessional, the "fantasy wears down," and Jay is forced to "deal with the truth." Onstage, a shirtless Jay pulls out a tape recorder and plays a tape of his father leaving a message on his answering machine. The sound of Jay's father's voice makes him recoil in horror, so he goes to bed and pulls the covers over his head. "At the end," says Jay in an interview, "the statement I try to make is that it's been his father all along." And just what did Daddy do to you, Jay? Did he make you kneel down next to his boots and pray like Madonna? Did he fool around with someone besides Christine McVie from Fleetwood Mac? Did you love him just like John Lennon even though he never loved you? Did you have to live like a "foot" in his "brown shoe" for thirty years like Sylvia Plath? Or did he tell you ask you what you were going to do with your life like he did to Cyndi Lauper?