Hello. My name is William Spear and your are listening to The 3:57. The current series is called IT SUITS HER.
The story is going to launch in a moment but we have a few words from our friends at MADISON ON THE AIR. Three, two, one . . . Ignition, baby!
(Insert Madison on the Air promo)
Thanks, Madison, I needed that cup of coffee. Back to our show.
Maxie’s celebratory dinner plans with Celia have evaporated in the wake of her reunion with her parents. He is alone in Nick’s Italian Bistro and his spirits are as flat as the tonic water in his glass.
At the moment, he could give Scrooge a run for his money.
And now, Episode Seventeen of . . . IT SUITS HER.
(Theme for Nick’s Bistro fades up and under)
Maxie stared at the Courts leaving and slumped. Everyone was celebrating but him he said to Nick.
“But you are having a role in Mister Tony’s new play. That is worth celebrating.”
“You’re right,” said Maxie. “Bring me your most expensive bottle of tonic water and a fresh lime.”
“Now that’s the new Mister Maxie I am remembering.” Nick called to the bartender: “One vodka tonic . . . holding on the vodka.”
The faux cocktail was delivered and raised in honor of the season.
Tony appeared: “Hiya Maxie. I was hoping you’d still be here. You didn’t end your record did you?”
Maxie spit out the tonic and wiped his mouth: “No-o-o. But I thought you had some last minute negotiations.”
“It was tense but I managed. Saw Ceel and her parents.”
Maxie marveled: “This is the first Christmas they’ve shared in five years.”
Tony agreed: “Lovely family. We wished them a Merry Christmas on their way out.”
“We?” asked the confused Maxie.
Tony smiled: “Me and my last minute negotiations. Just made the deadline for Christmas.”
It sounded serious and Maxie wondered if it was anything that he could share. Tony shook his and smiled. Nick approached the table: “Mister Tony, may I be bringing the same for you?”
“Two, Nick – I have a friend. I’ll be right back.”
Maxie deadpanned: “He has a friend Nick. Did you know that? Everybody has someone except me.”
Nick called out: “Two vodka tonics – holding on the vodkas – for Mister Tony. Unlike Mister Maxie, he has a friend.”
Maxie was feeling a bit sorry for himself and insisted on two more. “One for me,” he said. “And another one for me in case a friend shows.”
Nick called out: “Two more – holding on the vodkas – for Mister Maxie. And take his keys.”
That’s when a memory from ten years ago spoke: “Hello, Max.”
It was Agnes. Maxie’s wife.
(Theme for Nick’s Italian Bistro fades up and under)
You’ve just listened to Episode Seventeen of IT SUITS HER.
Series theme is through the courtesy of Michael Kobrin. Theme for Nick’s Bistro is by AudioCoffee. Both are at PixaBay.
The Three Fifty-seven is written and produced by William Spear.
Thank you for listening. And Maxie . . . here’s a few more tonics with fresh lime. You’re going to need them.
Hello. I am William Spear and this is The 3:57 by the aforementioned. You are listening to our current series called IT SUITS HER.
The story is going to start in a moment but we have a few words from our friends at MADISON ON THE AIR. Before the promo starts, we advise to strap yourself in.
(Insert Madison on the Air promo)
Thanks, Madison, I needed the boost. Now back to our show.
Maxie has been sipping tonic and limes for two hours waiting for Celia at Nick’s Italian Bistro. It was almost midnight as Nick the owner offers a holiday greeting: “It is the last few evenings before the day before the morning of Merry Christmas.”
Max still doesn’t know what that means.
With Celia a no-show for dinner, Maxie concedes the night is over in Episode Sixteen of . . . IT SUITS HER.
(Theme for Nick’s Italian Bistro fades up and under)
“I guess,” Maxie said to Nick. “She got a better offer.”
A familiar voice entered their conversation: “Not a better offer. But an overdue part. Hi, Max. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
Maxie wondered if it was the young man who kept calling her.
“It’s my mother and father,” she said and spun around to make introductions. “Mom, dad . . . this is Argosy Williams.”
“Mister Williams,” Celia’s mom spoke first. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’ve seen lots of your films.”
Celia’s dad went next: “THE TERMINUS is my favorite. The one scene where-“
Maxie cut him off: “It’s where I say “If you’ll excuse us, Sarah, I fear you’ve discovered what we’ve worked so hard to keep hidden.””
Mr. Court corrected him: “No, it’s where the husband and wife welcome back their daughter after she’s been gone for five years.
Maxie smiled and bowed to Mr. and Mrs. Court: “You have a special daughter.”
Mr. Court thanked him for helping Celia to get a job and Maxie returned with, “My pleasure.”
Celia pulled him aside: “Max, can I take a rain check on dinner? We have some catching up to do.”
“Of course. I’ll see you Monday morning. Merry Christmas, Ceel.”
“Merry Christmas, Max.”
Mrs. and Mr. Court wished Maxie a Merry Christmas and left the bistro amazed they really met Argosy Williams. “And he’s so nice,” said she. “Even nicer than in his pictures,” said he.
Nick waved goodbye to them and turned to Maxie: “The Courts are a very lovely family, Mister Maxie. I am applauding what you did.”
Maxie sighed. “They deserve a Merry Christmas. . . . At least someone does.”
(Theme for Nick’s Italian Bistro fades up and under)
You’ve just listened to Episode Sixteen of IT SUITS HER.
Series theme is through the courtesy of Michael Kobrin. Theme for Nick’s Bistro is by AudioCoffee. Both are at PixaBay.
The Three Fifty-seven is written and produced by William Spear.
Thank you for listening. And, Maxie, don’t quite leave yet.
Hello. This is The 3:57 and I am the host, William Spear. You’re listening to our current series called IT SUITS HER.
The story is going to start in a moment but first a few words from our friends at MADISON ON THE AIR.
(Insert Madison on the Air promo)
Thanks, Madison, and now back to our show.
The once hostile Celia and Maxie have gone from mutually assured disdain to merry delight due to their conversation with producer Tony Marks. The unemployed Celia now has a job and the unauditioned Maxie has been cast.
Help them celebrate success while they enjoy dinner right here in Episode Fifteen of . . . IT SUITS HER.
(Theme for Standing in the Cold)
Tony waved as he walked away: “I’ll see you both on Monday. And, Maxie, welcome back.”
Tony disappeared into the cold and dark. The two former combatants turned and smiled at each other.
“That,” said Celia. “Was incredible.”
Maxie praised his new Assistant: “You were brilliant. You deserve the job from Tony.”
Celia refused to take any credit: “I only got the job because Mr. Marks wanted to cast you.”
“Tony’s not that nice,” declared Maxie. “However, getting a job and landing a part deserve a celebration. Let’s have dinner.”
“Can I meet up with you?” Celia asked. “I have a phone call to make.”
“Sure thing,” Maxie agreed. “It’s Nick’s Bistro two blocks down and one block west. Best pasta in the county.”
Celia thanked him and asked: “By the way, what gig were you coming from?”
Maxie shrugged his shoulders and said it was nothing important.
She pressed for details and reminded him she was his Assistant.
He thought it over and decided to tell her: he worked in the Men’s Section of Scherzer’s Department Store. Over near the traffic circle. He had come from a big holiday sale.
Then he changed the subject saying: “Make your phone call and meet me at the restaurant in fifteen minutes. Ask for Nick.”
(Theme for Nick’s Bistro fades up and under)
Two hours later and Maxie was seated at a table in Nick’s Italian Bistro working on his third tonic and tonic. He called to Nick asking the time.
“It is being past eleven thirty, Mister Maxie,” said Nick. “I am perhaps thinking that your companion will not be joining you tonight.”
Maxie nodded: “Perhaps I am thinking you are right. I mean, you’re probably right. Plus it’s almost midnight and I have to work tomorrow.”
Nick added: “And it is the last few evenings before the day before the morning of Merry Christmas.”
Maxie shrugged: “I guess she got a better offer.”
(Theme for Nick’s Bistro fades up and under)
You’ve just listened to Episode Fifteen of IT SUITS HER.
Series theme is through the courtesy of Michael Kobrin. Theme for Standing in the Cold is by SoulProdMusic and theme for Nick’s Bistro is by AudioCoffee. All are at PixaBay.
The Three Fifty-seven is written and produced by William Spear.
A regular accounting of The 3:57 published on the first Monday of each month.
Monday 6 November
Hello, All,
Welcome to The Month Ahead for November 2023. It is my hope this finds you well for the rest of the year and beyond. This edition recaps October, maps out November and December, and looks at 2024.
In October, five more episodes of IT SUITS HER were released. Maxie and Celia are in a different place than when their story started and by all accounts there are more changes to come.
Four more episodes will be released in November and the series will conclude with a big showdown in December.
Staying in November, The 3:57 and MADISON ON THE AIR will swap promos in our respective shows. The 3:57 is absolutely pleased to have Madison bring her energy to our program for the entire month.
The program also had two episodes released in Octobber: 1) THE RAVEN – Published in 1845, Edgar Allan Poe’s feathered fiend came tapping and so gently rapping into the podcast and 2) CASEY AT THE BAT – Ernest Lawrence Thayer’s ode to losing sports teams has consoled fans since 1888.
A third stand alone reading, John Donne’s THE APPARITION first published in 1633, was included in Micro’s LATE GREAT HALLOWEEN EDITION.
Looking forward, plans for the first half of 2024 are being finalized. January will be a Season Break with no scheduled episodes. However, after that, the new year starts as follows: January – Season break with no scheduled podcasts February – The Messenger in LOVE, 20 MINUTES INTO THE FUTURE March – Four more episodes of SEVENTEEN April – ROAD RAGE an interpretation of Washington Irving’s Legend of Sleepy Hollow May to June – The first eight episodes of LATE IN THE GAME
That’s it for now. I look forward to more conversation next month. And remember, stories are everywhere.
Hello. This is The 3:57 by William E. Spear. I am the host, William Spear. This episode of IT SUITS HER is coming from a dark and cold street in front of Smart Styles tailoring shop in Flemington, New Jersey.
Celia has been fired and Maxie has missed his audition.
And, Maxie has admitted his drinking problem. But he assures her he hasn’t had one in five years, six months, two weeks, one day, and seventeen, or rather as she would later correct, eightteen minutes.
As they stand there, they are joined by a voice that means nothing to her but a world of failures to him.
How does he handle this? Stay tuned for Episode Fourteen of . . . IT SUITS HER.
(Theme for Standing in the Cold)
Maxie winced at the voice: “The auditions are over, aren’t they?
The voice responded: “Yes, Max, the auditions are over. Who’s your friend?”
Celia – the friend – offered to step away, but Maxie stopped her: “No, please stay.”
Maxie turned for the introduction: “This is Celia Court. Her friends call her Ceel. And Ceel,” he turned to her. “This is Tony Marks.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Celia,” nodded Tony.
Celia echoed his words.
Tony stared at Max neither disappointed nor angry: “We waited for you. What happened?”
Maxie played the role as he had so many times before: “The shop was closed when I got here. Ceel argued with the owner to re-open but he wouldn’t listen.”
Celia interrupted: “That’s not exactly . . .” Maxie cut her off: “Finally he got my suit and when I pointed out that his tailoring wasn’t acceptable, he blamed Miss Court.
“That’s shocking,” said Tony.
“As if that isn’t enough,” Maxie went on. “He fired her on my account.”
Celia tried interrupting again: “What really happened was . . .” This time Tony cut her off: “That’s unfortunate.”
“On top of that, she’s studying at university to be President of her own global business.” He was building to his crescendo.
“Wow! She must be smart,” was Tony’s response.
Maxie gently closed in to ask a favor: “So even though I missed the auditions – and you’re probably sore at me – and I caused her to lose her job, do you know of any positions that might be opening up for her?”
Tony looked back and forth between them and finally said there was an Assistant job opening on Monday.
Celia was overwhelmed: “That’s incredible. Thank you, Mr. Marks.”
Maxie was skeptical: “Who’s the job with? I want to interview her new employer.”
“It would be one-sided,” Tony admitted. Maxie was confused.
“She’s “your” Assistant,” said Tony. Maxie’s confusion doubled: “I don’t have a job.”
Tony congratulated Maxie on getting the part and explained he heard the shop owner fire Celia: “You took the blame and spun a nice little fable for me.”
“I’m not much of an actor if I can’t fool you, Tony.”
“Maybe. But you’re more of a gentleman than you were in THE TERMINUS. We start rehearsals Monday morning at nine A-M and I’ll see you there. You too, Miss Court, uh, I mean, Ceel.”
Maxie could not thank Tony enough and offered to buy dinner. Tony wondered if he meant Nick’s Italian place.
“I’ll ask Nick to serve us personally,” Maxie said and added it would be like old times.
“Tempting offer, Max, but I have to decline. Last minute negotiations. But you go without a drink for another five years, six months, two weeks, one day, and eighteen minutes-“
Celia announced it was now twenty-one minutes. Approximately.
Tony accepted Celia’s correction: “And twenty-one minutes and I’ll accept then.”
They shook hands and Tony asked where Maxie had been lately.
“Performing here and there. I had a gig earlier tonight,” said Maxie. Tony added he hadn’t seen his name anywhere and Maxie offered to tell him later.
“Fair enough,” said Tony as he walked away. “I’ll see you both on Monday. And, “Maxie”, welcome back.”
He disappeared into the cold and dark.
(Theme for Standing in the Cold)
You’ve just listened to Episode Fourteen of IT SUITS HER.
Series theme is through the courtesy of Michael Kobrin. Theme for Standing in the Cold is by SoulProdMusic. Both are at PixaBay.
The Three Fifty-seven is written and produced by William Spear.
Thank you for listening and . . . congratulations on the new job Celia and, Maxie, like Tony said, “Welcome back.”
Hello. This is William Spear, host of The 3:57 by William E. Spear. Thanks to Maxie and Celia for hosting the program while I recovered from too many milkshakes.
This is the current series called IT SUITS HER.
Maxie has gotten his suit – all puns are intended – but at a price well beyond the twenty dollars he paid. Celia has been fired from the Smart Styles Tailoring Shop. They are standing in the dark in cold weather.
For the first time, they are simply and merely two people. There is no ex-movie star. There is no assistant manager. Just two individuals with fractured pasts and blank futures.
What’s next for them? Stay tuned for Episode Thirteen of . . . IT SUITS HER.
(Theme for Standing in the Cold)
Celia and Maxie are standing and nearly shivering. The evening has gone where neither expected.
She finally speaks: “I almost bit a hole in my lip to keep from laughing when you wanted a receipt.”
Maxie returned the humor: “And you pushed him over the edge when you asked.”
The cold temperature chilled their attempted humor laughter.
Celia nodded: “It’s a nice suit, though.”
Maxie let her know he was sorry about her job.
“There are plenty of other jobs,” she shrugged. “I can start over with someone else. But you missed your audition.”
Celia’s cell phone, muffled in her coat pocket, rang twice. Maxie paused but Celia shook her head “No” and said he could leave a message.
Maxie continued: “Anyway, the audition was a hundred to one shot that wasn’t meant to be. I’ll get another one.”
Celia smiled and considered her words carefully: “Were you really a drunk?”
“It never goes away,” he said. “I drank when I woke up, during the day, and at night to fall asleep. Didn’t even recognize my own kids.”
“You have kids?”
It was Maxie’s turn to be quiet. He shook his head “Yes”.
“Why didn’t you get help?” wondered Celia.
“I didn’t have the guts to let the world see the perfect gentleman was a lousy drunk,” said Maxie. “I lost everything – career, money, and family. I haven’t seen my wife or kids in a decade.”
“You have a wife, too?”
“That usually comes with kids,” he said.
A smile flashed across Celia’s face and quickly turned into a frown. Maxie assured her he was okay: “I’m recovering; haven’t had one in five years, six months, two weeks, one day, and . . . what time is it?
“Nine-seventeen,” she said.
“And seventeen minutes. Approximately,” he added.
From out of the dark and cold, another voice spoke: “That’s a long time to go without a drink. Are you sure it’s been five years, six months, and two weeks?”
Celia looked but did not recognize the individual.
Maxie smiled and went on: “Don’t forget the one day and seventeen minutes.”
Celia added: “Eighteen, now.”
The stranger spoke: “Hello, Max.”
“Hello.” Maxie winced: “The auditions are over, aren’t they?”
“Yes, Max, the auditions are over.”
(Theme for Standing in the Cold)
You’ve just listened to Episode Thirteen of IT SUITS HER.
Series theme is through the courtesy of Michael Kobrin. Theme for Standing in the Cold is by SoulProdMusic. Both are at PixaBay.
The Three Fifty-seven is written and produced by William Spear.
THE RAVEN Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more.”
~~
Full Transcript –
THE RAVEN
ORIGINAL DATE: 21 October 2023
(The Raven Intro and Outro comes up)
Hello and welcome to The 3:57. I am the host, William E. Spear.
This episode contains a grieving heart – not to be confused with a tell-tale heart – and avian anxiety that first flew in the middle of the nineteenth century.
Edgar Allan Poe published THE RAVEN in 1845. Immediately, his “lost Lenore” and feathered fear induced “dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before” that continue to this day.
And now, quoth the host, THE RAVEN.
(Interior Theme for The Raven comes up and goes under)
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Nameless here for evermore.
(Theme for Lenore comes up and under)
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, “‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, “Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you”- here I opened wide the door;- Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?” This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “LENORE!”- Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice: Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore- Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;- ‘Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door- Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered- Till I scarcely more than muttered, “Other friends have flown before- On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.” Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, “Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore- Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of ‘Never- nevermore’.”
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore- What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er, She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
(Theme for Lenore comes up and under)
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! – Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted- On this home by Horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore- Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” (with echo on Nevermore)
“Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,” I shrieked, upstarting- “Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted- nevermore!
(Interior Theme for The Raven comes up and goes under)
You’ve just listened to Edgar Allan Poe’s THE RAVEN from 1845.
Music was provide by Universfield, Shadows and Echoes, and Alesia Davina.
The 3:57 is written and produced by William E. Spear.
Thank you for listening.
By the way, if you are napping and hear a rapping or gentle tapping on your chamber door – whether by Lenore or otherwise – pull the covers over your head.
(The Raven Intro and Outro comes up and goes under)
Clay Track Press 