The Legend Of 1900 script
I still ask myself if I did the right thing, abandoning his floating city.
I don't just mean for the work.
The fact is, a friend like that
a real friend,
you won't meet again
if you decide to go on land,
if you just want to feel something solid under your feet
and then you no longer hear the music of the gods around you.
But, like he used to say :
"You're never really done for as long as you've got a good story
and someone to tell it to."
The trouble is that no-one would believe a single word of my story.
It happened every time that someone would look up and see her.
It's difficult to understand.
I mean, there were more than a thousand of us on that ship,
travelling rich folk, immigrants,
strange people and us.
Yet, there was always one, just one
who would see her first.
Maybe he was just sitting there eating
or walking on the deck.
Maybe he was just there fixing his pants.
He'd look up for a second, glance out to sea
and he'd see her.
Then he'd just stand there, rooted to the spot, his heart racing.
And every time, I swear every damned time,
he'd turn towards us, to the ship, towards everybody and scream...
America!
I lost a lot of money betting on who'd be the first to see her,
America.
It's a miracle, Santa Rosalia!
What do you mean Santa Rosalia, it's the Madonna di Lourdes!
The one who sees America first. There's one on every ship!
And don't be thinking it's an accident or some optical illusion.
It's destiny.
Those are people who had that precise instant stamped on their life.
And when they were kids, you could look into their eyes
and if you looked carefully, you'd already see her,
America.
I've seen a few Americas!
Six years on that ship, five crossings a year :
Europe, America and back. Always soaking in the ocean.
When you stepped on land you couldn't even piss straight in the john.
It was steady, the john I mean,
but you'd keep bobbing like an idiot.
You can get off a ship all right, but off the ocean...
I was just closing. What can I do for you?
When I boarded I was twenty-four years old,
and only cared about one thing in life : playing the trumpet.
I'm selling it.
A Conn.
Not bad.
Best brass money can buy!
Could be, in its day.
Been a while since you played, eh?
If you mean for money, a couple of years.
But I've never stopped playing it to get rid of the blues.
Don't get me wrong...
The greatest jazz players blew through brass like that.
I'm sure they did, but after the war, people want sweet sounds.
They want bright sounds, forget jazz!
This now, is just a collector's item.
Nine pounds fifty, not a penny more.
Christ, that's only 9 or 1 0 dollars!
That horn's my whole life.
Okay, no-one's going to remember me like Buddy Bolden or Satchmo,
but even as a nobody I'm worth more than 9 lousy dollars!
If you put it like that, I don't think it's worth even half a crown!
Shut the door when you leave, please.
Okay, Pops, you win!
You just bought yourself a piece of musical history.
If you want some advice,
go out now and get something hot to eat.
At least let me play it one last time.
I don't have time to waste!
All right.
Hurry up though, I'm closing.
Thank you.
Two peas in a pod, wouldn't you say?
Are you all right? Please don't faint in here.
It's the music that you just played. Don't you recognise it?
What is it?
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