Even though tons of books have been written, millions of studies conducted about that subject, I still don`t quite understand who and how defines who or what is normal and who or what is not.
Nowadays, they call people who are a little different" people with special needs".
I wonder...is it them who are the ones with special needs, or are we the ones, the ones labeled "normal" who need that kind of attention?
Like Charles Bukowski once said: " You laugh at me because I`m different; I laugh at you `cause you are all the same."
There is this boy in the neighborhood, about 14-15 years of age and he is kinda labeled "special". Goes to such a school, too. He`s virtually got no friends, and the ones he does have get sometimes annoyed by him and sometimes they get boring for him. A lot of times they bully him; he is too good to bully back. He just stops talking.
He is like...well, The little Rain Man, but not quite, way more feelings and emotions in him than Dustin Hoffman`s character.
Every time he sees me, he would run across the lawn and start his never-ending stream of questions...and he would be all over the place, there is no pattern, he`d change the theme in a heartbeat...
- "Hey Srbo...do you know what`s the population of India? Do you know when WW I started? Who started it? Why? Which movies you think will never have a sequel? What was the name of the school you went to? What was the name of your first girlfriend? How many countries are in Asia? Who is the president of Chile? You think gun-control in the States would be a good thing or bad? Do you love your wife? "
And on, and on, and on...until his mother would come over and tell him to leave me alone, " Why do you bother that man all the time?" I would assure her that he is not bothering me at all, I enjoy the questions, I enjoy the company, I enjoy seeing the light on his face when I would get an answer right.
And I usually get every question right, `cause really, I`m this encyclopedia of " useless trivia", I really know so much stuff that I sometimes think I need to rent another brain, just so I could store all that information somewhere.
Man, he is always happy to see me, seems like I`m the only person who actually wants to talk to him, to listen to him and to answer his questions. All of them. And that makes him happy. Which in return, makes me happy.
So, one night, I invited them over to our place, told my wife we would have guests, to make a cake or something, lots of water and juice near-by, `cos man, when you talk a lot, your throat gets dry. Told her to act normal, no questions, no nothing, just talk to the woman, make some company, get to know her. I`ll talk to the kid. Deal? Deal.
The next two hours were wonderful. He would ask, I would answer. When he would be pleased with my answer, he`d squeeze a little pillow that`s on my couch in awe and the smile on his face can not be paid with money. When he would get an answer that both pleased and make him happy, `cause obviously my take on the matter is the same as his( even though he never tells if it really is) he would jump up, run a victory lap through my place, drink a bit of water, come back to me and we would start all over again.
Once, I got it wrong.
He said so..." No, no, no, Srbo, that is not right. Trust me, I know it`s not right."
" No? "
" NO! Please trust me."
"OK, but lemme check Wiki, do you mind? That`s where you get all your infos, so...can we play fair here? "
His face lit up " Yes, check it, but trust me."
So I checked. And I was wrong, he was right. I looked at him, just in a casual matter like I would look at anybody else and said " Ah, darn, sorry man, you were right, I apologize."
The look on his face, in that moment, is something you don`t forget. Ever.
" You are apologizing to me? "
" Yeah, buddy, to you...you were right, I was wrong, sorry man. "
You should have seen him...I don`t think even happiness is the right word for what I witnessed then. That joy, that laughter, that....feeling he radiated around him, like he finally belongs somewhere. It was an unreal experience.
It went on like that for about another half an hour and then his Ma said it`s enough, Daddy is gonna be worried, they have to head home.
He said he would be back come March brake, every weekend, to talk to me.
" To talk to my FRIEND!" he said in a strong, but almost sing-song voice from the happiness stuck in his throat.
I closed the door and leaned on it with an idiotic smile plastered all across my face.
Him special?!
I guess he is.
`Cause it really takes a special person to make me feel special.
I can`t wait to see the little man again...`cause now we are both special....
Nowadays, they call people who are a little different" people with special needs".
I wonder...is it them who are the ones with special needs, or are we the ones, the ones labeled "normal" who need that kind of attention?
Like Charles Bukowski once said: " You laugh at me because I`m different; I laugh at you `cause you are all the same."
There is this boy in the neighborhood, about 14-15 years of age and he is kinda labeled "special". Goes to such a school, too. He`s virtually got no friends, and the ones he does have get sometimes annoyed by him and sometimes they get boring for him. A lot of times they bully him; he is too good to bully back. He just stops talking.
He is like...well, The little Rain Man, but not quite, way more feelings and emotions in him than Dustin Hoffman`s character.
Every time he sees me, he would run across the lawn and start his never-ending stream of questions...and he would be all over the place, there is no pattern, he`d change the theme in a heartbeat...
- "Hey Srbo...do you know what`s the population of India? Do you know when WW I started? Who started it? Why? Which movies you think will never have a sequel? What was the name of the school you went to? What was the name of your first girlfriend? How many countries are in Asia? Who is the president of Chile? You think gun-control in the States would be a good thing or bad? Do you love your wife? "
And on, and on, and on...until his mother would come over and tell him to leave me alone, " Why do you bother that man all the time?" I would assure her that he is not bothering me at all, I enjoy the questions, I enjoy the company, I enjoy seeing the light on his face when I would get an answer right.
And I usually get every question right, `cause really, I`m this encyclopedia of " useless trivia", I really know so much stuff that I sometimes think I need to rent another brain, just so I could store all that information somewhere.
Man, he is always happy to see me, seems like I`m the only person who actually wants to talk to him, to listen to him and to answer his questions. All of them. And that makes him happy. Which in return, makes me happy.
So, one night, I invited them over to our place, told my wife we would have guests, to make a cake or something, lots of water and juice near-by, `cos man, when you talk a lot, your throat gets dry. Told her to act normal, no questions, no nothing, just talk to the woman, make some company, get to know her. I`ll talk to the kid. Deal? Deal.
The next two hours were wonderful. He would ask, I would answer. When he would be pleased with my answer, he`d squeeze a little pillow that`s on my couch in awe and the smile on his face can not be paid with money. When he would get an answer that both pleased and make him happy, `cause obviously my take on the matter is the same as his( even though he never tells if it really is) he would jump up, run a victory lap through my place, drink a bit of water, come back to me and we would start all over again.
Once, I got it wrong.
He said so..." No, no, no, Srbo, that is not right. Trust me, I know it`s not right."
" No? "
" NO! Please trust me."
"OK, but lemme check Wiki, do you mind? That`s where you get all your infos, so...can we play fair here? "
His face lit up " Yes, check it, but trust me."
So I checked. And I was wrong, he was right. I looked at him, just in a casual matter like I would look at anybody else and said " Ah, darn, sorry man, you were right, I apologize."
The look on his face, in that moment, is something you don`t forget. Ever.
" You are apologizing to me? "
" Yeah, buddy, to you...you were right, I was wrong, sorry man. "
You should have seen him...I don`t think even happiness is the right word for what I witnessed then. That joy, that laughter, that....feeling he radiated around him, like he finally belongs somewhere. It was an unreal experience.
It went on like that for about another half an hour and then his Ma said it`s enough, Daddy is gonna be worried, they have to head home.
He said he would be back come March brake, every weekend, to talk to me.
" To talk to my FRIEND!" he said in a strong, but almost sing-song voice from the happiness stuck in his throat.
I closed the door and leaned on it with an idiotic smile plastered all across my face.
Him special?!
I guess he is.
`Cause it really takes a special person to make me feel special.
I can`t wait to see the little man again...`cause now we are both special....
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