A forgotten truth or one being buried?

My father is in his eighties and lives in Perth, every morning he walks up a hill and sits down for a few minutes and looks over the city.


Every time I’m over there he gets me up at 5.30 and asks me if I’m coming, a little condescension in his tone suggesting the hill is too tough.





My father’s been married to my mother for over 55 years. He was a protestant she was a catholic. They were not allowed to get married in the front of the church and the priest told them they would never last. Even their astrological signs were incompatible.


He’s always worked, he’s never been on the dole, he’s never assaulted anyone and he’s never been to jail. He is and always has been a working class man. My favourite memory of him, and he was a bus driver, was when I was on his bus years ago. It was night and we were heading to Perth when this old woman stood up and told him something. She was very drunk. He pulled over, she got off and he waited, then when she got back on he gave her a nod and they took off. She’d wanted a wee.


One of the last times I was over there we got talking about the #metoo movement. The Geoffrey Rush scandal was everywhere and he told me, “that’s how it is now, I’m the bad guy.”


This play tackles man shaming, and suicide, but instead of preaching or whining, I wrote the script to allow the actors, especially the three males to show rather than tell the audience a fundamental truth that we seem to be forgetting, “Men Are beautiful.”


~Michael Gray Griffith




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