October 28, 2009

• For whatever reason, today, I had a sudden flash of memory of the movie Radio. The trailer is below if you're not famliliar:

  That, in turn, made me think of Flowers For Algernon (please tell me you all remember reading this way back when?? If not, you can read it here, in blog format: http://flowers-4-algernon.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2007-10-15T12%3A12%3A00-07%3A00&max-results=7 - start at the bottom and then work your way up the page to earlier and earlier entries). And my childhood comes flooding back to me.

  May 20

  I would not have noticed the new dishwasher, a boy. of about sixteen, at the corner diner where I take my evening meals if not for the incident of the broken dishes.
  They crashed to the floor, shattering and sending bits of white china under the tables. The boy stood there, dazed and frightened, holding the empty tray in his hand. The whistles and catcalls from the customers (the cries of "hey, there go the profits!" . "Mazeltov!". . . and "well, he didn't work here very long" which invariably seem to follow the breaking of glass or dishware in a public restaurant) all seemed to confuse him.
  When the owner came to see what the excitement was about, the boy cowered as if he expected to be struck and threw up his arms as if to ward off the blow.
  "All right! All right, you dope," shouted the owner, "don't just stand there! Get the broom and sweep that mess up. A broom . . . a broom, you idiot! It's in the kitchen. Sweep up all the pieces."
  The boy saw that he was not going to be punished. His frightened expression disappeared and he smiled and hummed as he came back with the broom to sweep the floor. A few of the rowdier customers kept up the remarks, amusing themselves at his expense.
  "Here, sonny, over here there's a nice piece behind you...."
  "C'mon, do it again."
  "He's not so dumb. It's easier to break'em than to wash'em. . ."
  As his vacant eyes moved across the crowd of amused onlook-ers, he slowly mirrored their smiles and finally broke into an uncertain grin at the joke which he obviously did not understand.
  I felt sick inside as I looked at his dull, vacuous smile, the wide, bright eyes of a child, uncertain but eager to please. They were laughing at him because he was mentally retarded.
  And I had been laughing at him too.
  Suddenly, I was furious at myself and all those who were smirking at him. I jumped up and shouted, "Shut up! Leave him alone! It's not his fault he can't understand. He can't help what he is! But for God's sake . . . he's still a human being!"

  • 7:58 pm
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