SEINFELD (1999 - 2003) is a television sitcom concerning the lives of four friends in New York City.
12/01/09 | Television


by a Titular Collaborative


Are there keys to a plane? Maybe that’s what those delays are sometimes, when you’re just sitting there at the gate. Maybe the pilot sits up in the cockpit going, “Oh, I don’t believe this. Dammit –I did it again.” They tell you it’s something mechanical because they don’t want to come on the P.A. system, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to be delayed here on the ground for a while. I uh — oh God this is so embarrassing — I left the keys to the plane in my apartment. They’re in this big ashtray by the front door. I’m sorry, I’ll run back and get them.”


Up the down escalator she goes and I watch because that is me, panic and rising and I am going up the up escalator and so with her running and my standing we move at the same pace. We are simultaneous. I watch her chugging legs pumping up to her chin, her head dipping, bowing the neck of a goose and the look on her face simple and uncovered. She goes quickly but her face says stay relaxed, stay calm, nothing wrong with this. She is catching a plane, she is hanging up her stirrups, she is moving one and a last time to the end. Or she is doing nothing, attending to the up down in her and the ways she could look both ruptured and whole, up the down and always going. Her face says stay calm and repeats itself as I stand unmoving.


Stay calm stay calm stay calm and I go up the escalator and I think it is the up escalator but I am on it now and it is too late with everyone facing this direction and towards me. A man in hat, a man going bald, a woman in a dress. Suitcase, suitcase, suitcase. I am stumbling I know it and I see the look on their faces, the always look that I am coming while they are going, they are coming and I am on the wrong direction, head screwed up. But I am halfway now and repeating to myself the mantra, the revision, stay calm stay calm stay calm. It is not working, this repeatable phrase, but I have no other chance, no other action, and at the top I will no longer be standing still. At the top when I get there when I land, I will be solid legs and going. I will be a direction, I will keep going.


Michael Richards sits in Row 11 (coach) Seat A (window) enjoying a bar of astronaut ice cream and the feature article (Frankie Muniz’s Favorite Places to Vacation) in the in-flight magazine. Eating astronaut ice cream makes him feel like an astronaut. Eating astronaut ice cream on a plane makes him feel doubly like an astronaut. The plane is cruising at 28000 feet, and Michael Richards looks out the window at the sea of fluffy, white clouds. He wonders why they wouldn’t seat him by an emergency exit. Were they afraid he’d bust through the door in mid-flight?

A pink, snouted streak punctures through the clouds and passes in front of his window. For a moment their eyes meet.

“P-p-p-pig Man. Pig Man.”

“Pardon?” the woman next to him says. As he turns to her, he realizes, absorbed in his magazine and ice cream, he hasn’t turned to her all flight long. She is a gorgeous black woman, and he stutters this time not out of shock but out of nervousness.

“P-p-pig Man.”

“You’re Michael Richards aren’t you? Of The Michael Richards Show and UHF fame.”

“Yes, I am – and Seinfeld.”

“I never cared for that show. I found too much of the humor in bad taste. You see, I’m very religious. I’m actually on my way to a church conference. What brings you to Cincinnati?”

“The radio station 96 WWYLXPR is running a big contest. The winner gets to spend a day with Michael Richards,” he says, even though he is on his way to Cincinnati to visit a friend.

“How exciting!”

“Would you like half of my astronaut ice cream?” he asks. She nods. Of the remaining half of astronaut ice cream, he breaks off half and gives it to her. She breaks her half in half and feeds Michael Richards out of the palm of her hand.

On a farm outside of Dayton, the Pig Man lands in a mound of hay. He scuttles down the mound and peers through the door of the barn. He watches the farmer’s daughter feed buckets of milk to the pigs and scratch underneath their bellies. He watches her smile. Her hair sweep across the backs of the pigs, her lips press gently against their ears.

He knows he is home.

Hello Newman

Good morning. Hello. Open your eyes. Oh, I see your eyes have fallen from their sockets in the night. Here they are on the floor next to your thumb. Let me put them back in for you. Is that better? Hello, there. Yes. Hi. How are you this morning? I am fine, thank you. The light is on, no? Open your eyes. Yes! I have tasks this morning. Pictures and sperm. For god’s sake, Newman, shut up! Hello! Breakfast? Can you hear me? Where are your ears? Let me take your picture first. Smile! Let me take your temperature. Breakfast will be along. Your finger has fallen to the floor again. Your goddamn fingers. I need to take some sperm from your testicles with this needle, then you can have breakfast. Your finger, yes, I will get it in a second. Oh Newman, we are just barely holding you together.

JERRY by Jerry Seinfeld | GEORGE by J.A. Tyler| ELAINE by J.A. Tyler | KRAMER by Ravi Mangla | HELLO NEWMAN by Darby Larson