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The girl at the grocery store
02/05/2002 - 5:26 p.m.
There�s a girl at the grocery store who has Down�s syndrome. She�s kinda shy, and doesn�t say much, and always looks lonely and scared, and I always say hi to her when I see her. She hardly ever says anything back... occasionally she�ll say �Hi,� then blush furiously. I was there yesterday, getting some sushi (dig that, a sushi bar in a grocery store), and I saw her again. I�m not sure that my intentions of being friendly have exactly worked out as I intended..... Which makes me think about my other friend with Down�s syndrome.....
Steve P. is my friend JD�s younger brother. He�s 34, I think, and has what I believe to be a fairly severe case of Down�s. I don�t really know, actually, what the range of functioning for Down�s people is � I know there was that fella on �Life Goes On,� a tv show from several moons back, who seemed to be pretty high-functioning, and then there�s Steve P, who can�t read, can�t count, can�t tie his shoes, and has a hard time pronouncing the difference between �ribbon� and �women� - that's my experience with Down's. But Steve can live in a group home, and for several years he had a job of sorts at a car wash, wiping down cars and such like, so I don�t know what to say about where he falls on the functionality scale, exactly.
Sometimes people puzzle when I call Steve my friend, because: �Red, he�s retarded. How can he be your friend? That�s kinda weird, man.�
Which, in all honesty, is somewhat true. He lives far away, and I don�t see him that often, and even if I did, I wouldn�t be calling him up to come over and have a beer and chat about the great new movie I saw the other night, or anything, for that matter, because it is extremely difficult to have conversations with Steve. He�s very hard to understand, and it can take a very long time to have 30 seconds worth of communication. But - I like Steve a lot � he�s a very sweet, kind, happy guy. And we do have something in common � music.
Steve loves to sing. L U V loves it. He is never happier than when he can sing. Listening to music is his other great passion, but singing � the world could end, and often does, when he�s singing, and that would be just fine with him. It is his dream to be in a band and be the singer and get up on stage and play out and entertain the world. And, ya know what the best part is? He�s good. He�s real good. This fella can deliver a tune like nobody�s business.
Now, there are some problems. He lives in a small town in New Hampshire, a couple hours drive away from the people who understand and share his enthusiasm for music, and could help him get the full satisfaction of that dream. Those people, of course, are his brother, and me, and our friend D-man. Steve can�t play with just anybody � he can�t just pop down to the music store and put up a flyer � �Musicians wanted.� The big problem is that most people look at Steve, and his music, as a freak show, which is the last thing it is. Even the people responsible for his care, who honestly do want only the best for him, don�t really understand or appreciate what music and particularly performing really mean to him. Not like me and my friends do. Oh no � we�re much more in tune with Steve than they are, he says, rolling his eyes and fanning his thousands of pounds of understanding out into the world.
So it falls to us to do we do what we can for, and with, Steve. At least once a year, we get together with him and do some music. That may mean we play a show, usually at a party, or we make a record with him. And Elvis, it does a heart good to see the smile on that young fella�s face when he�s rocking. He�s simply an amazing performer, and there are times when it really breaks my heart that he can�t write lyrics, or learn them, and that it is so hard to understand what he�s saying, because if he was a little more in touch with the world the rest of us live in, he�d be shockingly popular. He�d have all the things he dreams of � a band, a girlfriend, be able to live in Boston (to Steve, Boston is the place where all things good are found), and be able to live like The Monkees, in a house with his band, and have all kindsa crazy shenaniganic adventures.
So, how does he write music? The short answer is, of course, that he doesn�t. We do that. JD, D-man, and I, are the core of his band. We bring in ringers from time to time, but it�s usually us. We�ve worked in several different ways, including semi-improvisation, writing and recording fully finished pieces of music that we then have Steve do vocals over, and full improvisation. We all have different feelings about what works best, but IMO, the best is when Steve gets a tape of finished music, which he can then make up lyrics and melodies for. That's what Steve does do: create lyrics and melodies.
It�s hard to imagine when you haven�t experienced it, but Steve can come up with amazing melodies, and even more amazing lyrics. This is especially hard to fathom because it�s easy to forget that retarded people aren�t stupid � they just think differently than the rest of us. Steve may not be able to read � though he pretends he can, most often with the book upside down � but that doesn�t mean he doesn�t experience, and think, and feel, and imagine. There�s very little more heart-rending than Steve�s songs about girls. Except for living in Boston with us in a band house and being The Steve Band, there�s nothing Steve wants more than a girlfriend. I don�t think (although honestly, I don�t know for sure) that he has much interest in �normal� human sexual relations, but he knows what girlfriends are, and he wants one. He�s never had one, and I doubt he ever will, but he sure can tell you what it�s like to want one, and rip your heart out while doing it.
Sometimes I feel pretty damn good about myself because of what I do with Steve, and kinda self-righteous � see, everyone else thinks Steve is just this sad mess, but I, and my friends, know better. I know that this is us doing something for a fella who can�t do for himself � and that�s pretty effing snazz of us. And, that�s true, as far as it goes. But sometimes, I wonder.... is it really so great to give Steve just a bit of his dream, once or twice a year, when we all have the time and the energy and can spend a weekend or two doing it? Are we so smart, or is it worse to dangle Steve�s dream in front of him like a Crackerjack box in front of a 5 year old, and then only give him a handful of the stuff, and keep the prize?
I dunno. I was thinking all that, because of the girl in the grocery store. Yesterday, when I was in there, I caught her peeking at me when she thought I wasn�t looking. Three times. Am I the target of a crush now? Looks like. And was that such an effing nice thing to do? Not that I intended it � I just wanted to be nice to someone who looked lonely and scared and needed some nice. But maybe, in the long run, it wasn�t so nice. Hard to say, really. Ahh Red - you ladykiller.
Music to question my sanctimony by:
Wipers - "Romeo" (Romeo 45)
"Oh Romeo -
Roam, Romeo -
Romeo Roam -
Roam, Romeo -
Whoooo!"
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