A Streetcar Named Moe

Liz Sorenson loved the Three Stooges so much that as a young girl she decided that her first-born son would be named Moe.

True to her word, when Liz gave birth to a boy years later she named him Moe.

This delighted Liz so much that she announced that her next son would be named Larry, the next Curley, and, if the need arises, her fourth would be called Shemp. Fortunately, at least for the prospective Shemp, her procreation stopped with Moe.

Moe Sorenson grew into a man of no great distinction. By his mid-30s he was living in a small apartment and working as a lube technician at Ray’s Speed of Lightening Lube Shop. He was a good worker, which is no small thing, but he longed to achieve more in his life than changing the oil in someone else’s car.

One day at work an elderly woman whose car he was working on approached him. “Excuse me, young man,” she said sweetly. “Do you know who you look like?”

“No, not really.”

“Why you’re the spitting image of a young Rudy Bond.”

“Who?”

“Rudy Bond. He was in the movie “A Streetcar Named Desire” with Marlon Brando. Oh, I loved Marlon Brandon. Anyway, that’s who you look like. You could be his twin.”

Rudy Bond

 Moe didn’t know what to say so he thanked the women and went about his business. A few days later, while visiting his mother, he told her what the woman had said.

“Why yes,” Liz said excitedly. “I never noticed it before but she’s right. You look exactly like Rudy Bond. That’s wonderful.”

“What’s so wonderful about it,” Moe asked.

“You’ve always complained you don’t have a talent for anything, but now you can say you look like Rudy Bond.”

“What are you talking about? That’s not a talent.”

“Of course it is.”

“No it’s not,” Moe said, his patience growing thin with this conversation. “Looking like somebody isn’t a talent.”

“Well that shows you what you know. Of course it’s a talent. It’s a special talent.”

Moe just shook his head back and forth.

“Does everybody look like Rudy Bond?” Liz asked.

“No.”

“So there you go. You can do something other people can’t do. That’s the definition of talent.”

Moe wasn’t buying it, and, truth be told, Liz really didn’t have a lot of faith in her theory either. She just knew that her son always had low self-esteem and she wanted to improve it, even if it meant promoting a preposterous line of thinking that no sane human being would agree with.

That’s what mothers are for.

A few months passed and Moe had long forgotten about Rudy Bond. He was sitting in the lunchroom at work when his friend and co-worker Jimmy Cummings pointed out an ad in the local newspaper.

“Look at this,” Jimmy said. “They’re having a talent contest at the high school this Saturday. Anyone can enter.”

“So?” Moe said.

“You should sign up,” Jimmy suggested.

“What are you talking about? What kind of talent do I have?”

“Well, your mom always talks about how you look like Rudy Bond.”

“Not you too?  Once and for all, looking like somebody isn’t a talent.”

“It says the winner gets $1,000. Even if you lost it would be work taking a shot for that kind of money.”

Moe mulled over the math. He sure could use the money, and he couldn’t win it if he didn’t enter. So he decided to enter the contest.

The high school auditorium was packed on Saturday night. More than 50 people had entered, and it seemed like they all brought family and friends to cheer them on. Liz was there wearing a Three Stooges T-Shirt.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Moe told Jimmy as they stood backstage.

“You’re here to win $1,000,” his friend said. “Just relax. You’ll do fine.”

Suddenly a voice over the public address system announced: “Now our next contestant, Moe Sorenson.” Moe walked out on stage. It was empty except for a folding table where the three judges sat. The first and third judges were women, probably in their 50s. The middle judge was a grey-haired man probably in his 60s. He didn’t recognize any of them.

“What talent will you be preforming for us tonight?” the man asked.

“I look just like Rudy Bond.”

“OK. But what talent will you be performing,” one of the woman judges said.

“I told you. I look just like Rudy Bond. You know, from 'A Streetcar Named Desire.'”

“It’s not a talent to just look like someone,” the other woman said in a slightly irritated tone of voice. “You have to do something. What made you think you could enter a talent contest just because you think you look like someone?”

“My mom said it’s a real talent that I have, that I look like Rudy Bond. I mean, does everybody look like Rudy Bond? If everybody looked like Rudy Bond then it wouldn’t be a special talent to look like him, but if everybody doesn’t look like Rudy Bond then it’s something I can do that other people can’t.”

Moe began to realize what he was saying. His voice tailed off as concluded with,  “That’s what my mom said.”

“I’ll tell you what,” the male judge said. “Why don’t you go backstage and think about what talent you want to perform. If you still want to be in the contest you can come back out after everyone else is done.”

Moe figured he didn’t have much choice, so he trudged off the stage. Jimmy met him behind the curtains.

“Now what am I going to do?” Moe exclaimed angrily. “I told you looking like someone isn’t a talent. I made a complete fool of myself.”

“Don’t worry,” Jimmy said. “I’ve got an idea. You sit tight until I get back.”

Moe sat backstage and watched the other contestants parade before the judges. There were singers, people who played musical instruments, a couple of guys who did comedy routines. All the while Moe wondered what the heck he was going to do if he went back out on stage.

Finally, there was no one left but him. Moe didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, Jimmy came running up with a piece of paper in his hand. He pushed it toward Moe.

“Here, take this out there and read it,” he said, panting from running.

Moe looked at the paper. “What is it?”

“Just get out there and read it, I don’t have time to explain.”

Moe walked back on stage. The judges nodded at him. He looked down and started to read, a little haltingly as he didn’t have a chance to look it over first.

“Remember that night in the garden. You came down to my dressing room and you said, ‘Kid this ain’t your night. We’re going for the price on Wilson.’ Remember that? This ain’t your night. My night. I coulda taken Wilson apart. So what happens? He gets the title shot outdoors, and what do I get? A one-way ticket to Palookaville.”

Moe looked at the judges and smiled. He thought he did pretty well, but their serious looks didn’t seem to agree.

“That’s very nice,” the first woman judge said.

“Thank you.”

“But, Rudy Bond never said those lines. Those were Marlon Brando’s lines.”

Marlon Brando

 “Marlon Brandon?” Moe said, his mind racing for an explanation. “Well, I think what happened is Rudy Bond said that to Marlon Brando earlier in the movie, and then he just repeated it later.”

“The problem is,” the other woman judge said, “Marlon Brando said that in 'On the Waterfront,' not 'A Streetcar Named Desire.'

Now Moe really didn’t know what to do.

“Well….”

The male judge interrupted him.

“I think it’s best you just leave now.”

Head bowed, Moe walked off the stage and headed straight toward Jimmy, who was looking at some sheets of notes.

“Thanks a lot,” Moe said.

“Well, will you look at this,” Jimmy said as he read his notes.

“What?”

“Turns out Rudy Bond was in ‘On the Waterfront’ too. Who would have thought it?”

Moe shook his head. “Let’s just get out of here and get something to eat.”

In the coming months Moe gradually got over his embarrassment. He even accepted good-natured kidding about it from his family and friends. Eventually he met a woman named Carolyn, who he fell in love with and married.

He got promoted from lube technician to manager at Ray’s Speed of Lightning Lube Shop and found he really enjoyed running the store and interacting with customers and employees. Turns out he had a real knack for it.

About a year after they were married, Carolyn gave birth to a boy. They named him Rudy.

And in the end Moe learned something very important: That the best talent you can have is being happy with who you are.