Leaving Omaha: A Navel Epic

Mucky: I thought up a little project for us all to get involved, if not hopelessly lost, in.

One by one, we, plus everyone we know or ever met, pulls up his or her shirt and sits on a stool in front of the video camera, which gets pointed at the navel, and relaxes. Dramatic lighting, pull in on the belly, focus. The person whose belly is onscreen is watching funny movies -- say like Blazing Saddles.

As the on-camera person laughs, giggle and so forth, the belly action is caught on tape, and the navel is seen, in striking relief in shadow and highlight, hiding and peeking back out, wobbling like a rivet in a bowl of jello. You don't even know whose navel it is when you're watching it. You just watch it have a good time. Then you can go home and discuss.

There might be some problems to iron out. Like, what if the Screen Actors' Guild (whose acronym is "SAG", by the way) comes along and says they want to see the union card of each person whose belly appeared in the movie? We might have to grease a few palms to keep the picture from getting nailed before it reaches Sundance and Cannes.

We could call it something totally inscrutable, like Leaving Omaha, or something. I think we get it from concept to reality by meeting and smoking cigarettes and squinting and saying stuff like "I think I can get the Spielberg people behind us on this one," and "This film will resonate deeply with the disaffected middle class." We should each be on a separate cell phone, too, yelling at different people.

We'll all pick through our sushi like we're serious about eating it, then we'll each pick up a Suzy Q on the way home.

I have $46 I'd be willing to throw in, no questions asked. Plus I'll bare Wendell, my navel, for art's sake.

Tanya: Can I be continuity girl? Make sure the lint is always wedged in there at the same angle, keep the shiny sushi coat even, keep wasabi levels at a tolerable level?

Mucky: Are you prepared to work hard with the likes of Wendell?

Spanky: My navel refuses to work unless it gets its own trailer. And free Q-tips.

Mucky: Well, OK then.

The script is about a skilled team of seasoned pros -- that would be us -- pretending to be a bunch of chemically-imbalanced loonies who met on the internet to make a movie about -- of all things (they'll NEVER believe this part) -- navels! It's just crazy enough to work. Is there time to get Wendell into a tanning booth a few times?

I looked in Spanky's belly button's contract for language about the trailer. All I found was something about a fresh supply of lint each working day.

Spanky: My belly button's lawyer will see you in court. Doubles?

Mucky: Sure!

I got a hold of the Spielberg people. We talked for a good minute. These were the chief points they made:

1. They don't know me from freakin' Adam.
2. How the hell did I get the phone number anyway?
3. If they made every movie that every looney tune with an idea bugged them about, they'd end up with a bank account they couldn't bribe a wino with.
4. Click.

Frankly, I see a ray of hope there.