Get Off My Lawn

I can't tell if he's laughing or crying.

The Bailey Chronicles Part 1: Like a Boss

The first time I saw Bailey, I was walking through the atrium of the Robin Hood learning centre, a kind of school, employment placement service, and sheltered workshop serving a population with developmental disabilities. Bailey was the embodiment of poise as he leaned back in his chair with the casual confidence of a crime boss holding court at the back table of a greasy spoon joint. He’s bald on top and has a belly, combined with an air of self-possession; he’s a miniature Down Syndrome version of Tony Soprano.

Tony Saprano 1

He eyed me, assessing me as I walked toward him, measuring me. His red beret bobbed up and down as he nodded to me, “Hello, my friend. How are you today?”

“Not bad,” I replied. “And how are you?”

“Oh, not much.” I came to learn that this was a quirk of his. If ever asked how he was doing, he would answer, “Not much.”

Tony Saprano 2

He may have been the coolest guy I’d ever met. He was smoky jazz, an after hours club, a red convertible on a hot day. I said to myself, “I gotta work with this fucking guy.” From one of the other staff I found out where he lived and I set myself up to do an orientation at his residence. He made me laugh out loud on that first day. Bailey is a brittle diabetic and requires insulin four times a day. The injection location changes and is regularly rotated, and the staff doing the orientation, a very pregnant Filipino woman, asked, “Okay, Mr. Bailey, where do we stick this?” as she held up the needle. She was sitting at the kitchen table and Bailey stood beside her. He pulled up his top and squeezed a portion of his sizeable belly, pointing it toward her and saying, “Right here baby! That’s the juice!” The staff laughed and pointed to his belly: “Who’s the pregnant one around here? You or me?” Bailey laughed his wheezy laugh and shook his head, clearly enjoying the banter, and summed it all up with an “Oh, Jethuth Chwiste.”

This was the beginning of a 17-year friendship.

Categories: Non-Fiction, Personal

Tags: , , , , ,

34 replies

  1. You have the storyteller’s gift.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. i’m hooked.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Definitely sounds like a cool guy. Great sense of humor too. This world is a tough place without one.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I cannot wait to hear more about him John!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I have this feeling that this will be one of those true stories that is better than anything a fiction writer could come up with. I’m intrigued and look forward to the upcoming installments. Everybody should know somebody like Bailey, I think.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Real life stories…beats even the very best fiction. Write on, John. ☺

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Okay, I just finished this one and am ready for the next one. Immediately. Get cracking, John.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Wish I’d known him m.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. So many people look down on those who have Down’s Syndrome. They look different, they talk different, they’re dumb. Well, what if someone were to stop and criticize you for how you look, or act, or talk? Some of the most beautiful minds, reside in those with Down’s Syndrome.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Gonna say it again — love your writing style. Can’t wait to read more about your and Bailey’s friendship.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Ah he sounds amazing! Can’t wait to read more about him!!

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Ha – love it! He sounds like a great character, they make life so much more colorful.

    Liked by 1 person


  1. The Bailey Chronicles Part 2: Hustle and Flow | Get Off My Lawn

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s