Colors, new Colors, Unknown to and Ungraspable by we “Normal” Humans...

I am quite fascinated by “unique” humans. I like to use the word “unique” rather than “psychologically challenged,” “mentally handicapped,” or “special.” Certainly, such individuals are indeed “special” in design, but “unique” implies so much more. It submits that they are one-out-of-thousands, exceptional, matchless, and, unlike we “normal” humans (whatever that implies), they are “unique” out of the great masses.

There is a young, adult male whom I observe upon many an instant throughout my workweek. He gets off the city bus at a stop near my office building and makes his way about a quarter mile or so to a local fast food eatery where he is employed. I seem to catch the early 20-something man at several iterations throughout my busy schedule, and I always pause and take note of his activities, his whereabouts, and I always try to study him, to learn of him.  

He is a short man of Hispanic decent, stout and round, with thick glasses and a “bowl” cut of untidy, black hair to match his thin, unkempt mustache. He wears his fast-food-chain-issued blue uniform top, a black backpack, and black pants, which I must make note of, are simply too short for even this short gentleman. The cuffs ride an uncomfortable distance above his worn, black sneakers, and I shutter at the thought of a wise-ass, pimply-faced fast-food manager failing to provide him the proper uniform bottoms just for laughs.

Unintentionally and purely by chance, I have caught sight of the gentleman periodically for years. He always has some form of musical devise upon him. In fact, early on, I would notice him with a rather archaic Walkman cassette player. He’d shuffle down the sidewalk from the bus stop, smiling the broadest smile ever, animatedly nodding his head with the music and humming along loudly to the tunes buzzing from his large, foam Walkman headphones. After some time, I noticed that he did away with the antiquated headset and donned an upgraded, newer pair that individually looped the tops of each of his ears and plugged into a new, blue CD player. He’d gently hold the player within his hand, as a waiter would deliver a tray of hot coffees, careful not to skip the CD while walking. I imaged the few CD cases clicking together within his backpack.

He listens to hits of the early eighties within his devises. How do I know of such things? Upon one such occasion, I was sitting at a traffic light with my driver’s side window down. As I caught the gentleman in my side view mirror, I turned the car’s radio down completely so I could observe him in quiet.  At an above-speaking level, yet not quite singing volume, “I’m never gonna dance again – guilty feet aint’ got no rhythm” rang from the man’s lungs and mouth within a subtle slur. He walked and sang with his eyes closed, smiling earnestly – perhaps envisioning every layer of the music’s content and meaning.

A few months later I caught sight of him again. This time he carried a small iPOD-type devise, complete with a pair of shimmering white ear buds and cord. He seemed to walk much taller, as if the new mp3 player limited not his music selection to a handful of CDs and as if all his hard work at the restaurant finally paid-off. He danced a little now within his steps, and, again, the man sang aloud, not caring for the rushing passersby who also took note of his exterior appearance and coarse but melodic solos. He was and is very real.  

Everyday, he walks and sings, shushing along in his too-short slacks and wily hair. Everyday, he rises and thrills at those certain moments in songs that send chills up one’s neck and cheeks, and he dances.  Everyday, he smiles, and he demonstrates a beautiful example of individuality to the ceaseless filth of “ordinary” people that encircle him and rush past him. You see, he is uncomplicated; he is untainted by social pressures and plastic expectations; and he is a seer of feelings and colors, new colors, unknown to and ungraspable by we “normal” humans.  He sings with his eyes closed as he walks upon the sidewalk, past the cars stuck at the traffic lights, to his job at a fast-food place. He is unique, one-out-of-thousands, exceptional, matchless… unlike we “normal” humans.