Henry David Thoreau, author of Walden, Civil Disobedience, and Transcendentalism for Dummies, was one of the pre-eminent writers and philosophers of his time. Now, for the first time comes the story of his little-known life as a newlywed on the shores of Walden Pond, painstakingly reconstructed from journals, letters, and squirrel eyewitness accounts. Hollywood agents and sitcom producers can begin negotiations for the rights to this heartwarming tale here. An excerpt from the as-yet unreleased screenplay appears below.
The Anniversary
Thoreau: What do you want to do for our anniversary?
Wife: Why don't we go to New York? I hear it's beautiful this time of year.
Thoreau: Honey, it's not worth the while to go round the globe to count the cats in Zanzibar. Methinks that some men find it easier to voyage around the world than to explore one's private being.
Wife: You never take me anywhere! (slams door)
The Pet Name
Wife: I love you, Hank-Dave.
Thoreau: Honey, my name is Henry David. To shorten it in such a manner makes it sound veritably uncouth.
Wife: Dear, it's a pet name. Everyone calls you Henry David. "Hank-Dave" is my own special name for you.
Thoreau: Well I don't like it. Let the huddled masses use pet names, for I need only the good Christian name of my parents.
Wife: Does that mean you'll stop calling me "my little industrious wood-tick"?
Thoreau: But, honey, that name is cute.
Relocation
Wife: Dear, I hear in the village that they are putting Old Man Hathorne's house up for sale.
Thoreau: That village is perpetually abuzz with gossip like a village of non-sleeping, gossipy people-bees! (Pause) Did you like that metaphor? Should I write it down to show Emerson?
Wife: If you like, Dear. But about Old Man Hathorne's house...
Thoreau: Well, what concern is it of ours?
Wife: I thought that you might want to leave the edge of the pond for some more... established quarters.
Thoreau: Leave Walden Pond? Never!
Wife: Why not? It's small, it's dirty, and even you have begun complaining about having to sleep out of doors when guests come over.
Thoreau: But...but...we have to preserve this land!
Wife: Preserve it? This stupid pond? Who are we preserving this filthy fly-infested pond for?!?
Thoreau: (quietly) Don Henley.
