Forty something years ago I prayed..."Lord let whoever I ask to dance say yes and please let the dance be one of those Jorge Ferriera rhapsodies that lasts forever."
"Music is a therapy. It is communication far more powerful than words, far more immediate. Far more efficient." Yahudi Manuhin.
"Music has healing power. It has ability to take people out of themselves for a few hours." Elton John.
"Music moves people. It connects people in ways that no other medium can. It pulls heart strings.It acts as medicine." Maclemore.
"Music is life....that's why hearts have beats."
At thirteen I was in seventh or eighth grade. I was fortunate to have my sister Filomena who advocated for me and had me in a catholic school in the hollow. In school I was about 7 miles from home but 1 block from my brother Tonys restaurant, 3 blocks from Fernandos Travel agency and two blocks from Columbus School the school where my sister was a teacher.
I felt far from home, but was always close to everyone.
At thirteen I would walk from school to Tonys restaurant on Thursday and Friday nights. The place would be busy and I would help out by washing dishes 4pm to 10pm. It wasn't easy but I didn't mind it. It was an interesting environment to say the least. The point here...I was thirteen and washing dishes till 10pm. My brother would give me all the tips, so that made me very happy. I was thirteen and making ching!!!. I was excited, I felt accomplished and was surrounded by adults with interesting point of views.
I was thirteen, I liked school and the pretty girls, at thirteen I was preparing for confirmation. At thirteen Tony let me drive the balleeenyas around the Columbus school parking lot across the street from the restaurant when things were slow. The balleeenyas was an old beat up volkswagen beetle with the heart and mind of its own...almost like herby the love bug. There were a few of the love bugs in my family. My sisters was the newest, the cleanest, but I didnt get to drive that one until I was fifteen.
At thirteen I had those school boy crushes on girls that shall remain nameless. Some were neighbors, some family friends and others were girls that I met in church. At thirteen the Portuguese community was tight. The church had festivals, the Portuguese club had festivals and Omanel restaraunt had social dances every Sunday night from seven to midnight. My brother Tony was very social. My brother Tony worked hard when he had to, but he partied pretty damned hard as well. He loved to fish, he loved his boat, and he attended every festival, picnic and Sunday night dance. Tony often asked if I wanted to go. At thirteen, the last thing I wanted to do was stay home. I was so fortunate to have supporting family and to have him and my brother Alcides to take me fishing, boating, to the parks, sledding, etc. At thirteen I looked forward to washing dishes on Thursday and Friday. Working gave me tips and the opportunity to hang with my brother. Washing dishes gave me leverage. I would work late Thursday and Friday and then would beg my mom and dad to let me go to the dances on Sunday night. The dances were in a small hall, there was a small bar in the back and the room was filled with the community families and friends. Local bands would play portuguese music and couples would dance. At thirteen I was excited, My sister Filomena would always take me to orher types of dances such as fundraising dinner dances that she and her husband Fernando were part of. She always took the time and made a point to get me on the dance floor. She and I would dance, as a beginner i would lead us in bumping into other couples through out the night, but it was ok, we were all community. I probably gave her black and blue toes and I probably wrecked a dozen of her expensive shoes, but she never said a word. At thirteen she had built up my confidence on the dance floor. During these fundraisers and festivals or picnics there were dinners and then dancing. Directly after dinner the bands would start, at the same time all of the macho men rushed to the bar for espresso and after dinner alcohol. At thirteen my ass was left behind at the table listening to the band. I will never forget the first time I got a tap on the shoulder from one of my sisters friends hey lets dance....uhm ok. I learned pretty quickly to make sure I was the lonely thirteen year old at my sisters table, that got me the dances....
It was culture, it was community, it was family, it was nerve racking as a boy to come out of a shell, but it all made a person, it gave a kid confidence. So at thirteen, I looked forward to the dances, the music, I was as shy as every other thirteen or fourteen year old kid, but I prayed to God during the week for my crushes to be at the dances with thier parents. My prayers didn't always come true, but when they did, I couldnt always find the courage to ask until the last dance. I would go home upset, beat myself up mentally with the "oh man...why didnt I try a little harder to get that dance????"
I was thirteen then, Omanel and the Sunday night dances were the place to be. I loved the music and every other Sunday when Tony had his night off work...I had the opportunity to try my courage at dancing yet again. I was thirteen and Jorge Ferriera was going to be the band on one of those Sunday nights. I could remember the smoke filled room, the smell of seagrams seven that was soaked into the carpets and the body odor of the dumb ass porkchops that didnt believe in deodorant. The minute you walk into the hall you feel the body heat, you smell the smells and you knew right there and then that tomorrow morning your clothes were going to wreek of tobacco. I recall the table and the surprise to see that there were girls similar to my age at the table. I was so psyched...here I was at thirteen but thinking...some of these adults are gonna force us young peeps to dance together...bingo!!!! That night The band played and I could not care less about who was playing...you could have had bozo the clown playing polkas... It was guaranteed dance partners!!! It just happened to be Jorge Ferriera and he played. Jorge is famous for rapsodies and his songs go on for about twelve to fifteen minutes. I was so psyched to have dance partners my age, one of which was my childhood crush that I had prayed the Lord would let me dance with. Anyway all of this work up of story and I can begin to get to the point.
I was thirteen. I was introduced to Jorge Ferriera, the smokey environment, the courage to get up and dance, the adrenaline, the sense of confidence and that music in the background that changed everything about how a thirteen year old looked at life. During the week this thirteen year olds simple life had me praying that I get a dance. I worked as a thirteen year old, I had tip money in my pocket! At intermission Jorge Ferriera sold records, eight track tapes and cassettes. My sister had a record player at home and there was a cassette player at my brother Tony's dishwashing station so I took my tip money and like a big man bought a record and two cassettes. On Thursdays and Fridays I would play those cassettes while I washed dishes while reliving that Sunday night where my prayer was answered and I danced.
I sit here bedside about forty years later. At thirteen my kids gone through a lot. I sit here bedside while he sleeps, with nothing more to do than plan for his tomorrow. Forty years ago I looked like him, I was his height, I was his build. At his age I had experiences that I am so so so sorry that he has not had. I wish that he could have had the opportunities that I had. He has opportunities, but not the same. I was his age and height driving a volkswagen around the Columbus school parking lot. I was his age and washing dishes and watching the chefs cook stuff up. I was his age forty something years and prayed that I would get to dance. The music didnt matter but there were several songs that seemed to be the hit.
Fast forward to Alex at thirteen. Alex loves to fish, he loves to ride his bike, he loves to kick the soccer ball, he loves Dora Dance and I think that I have forced him into loving Jorge Ferriera songs. When home our youtube is programed to play Jorge on repeat. Alex is excited about the music and he moves and grooves to it. While here in the hospital he is lethargic His medications make him sleepy especially around physical therapy time. Several times through out therapy sessions the therapist put on easy listening guitar or acoustic guitar, that only makes him sleepy. I ask the therapist if they would mind my music...they shrugged thier shoulders...I put on Jorge and the kid sits right up! This week Ive used Jorge ferrieras song "Tiro Lido" for arm therapies and the kid loves it and will work hard with it. So I sit and think about how different we are, yet how similar. He works with the same exact music today that I worked with forty something years ago. There is a religious song by Jorge "amar como Jesus amo" that we sang at home and now sixty something days at the hospital, Ive sang it to him every night before he falls asleep. The songs pick him up and get him moving yet the songs calm him down give him peace and comfort and het him to sleep.
Forty something years ago I was thirteen exactly as Alex is here today. Forty something years ago I was in a smoke filled room trying to stand up, trying to gain enough courage to dance. Forty something years ago I prayed for a dance partner, I wanted to dance. Today at Alexs bedside I see that he too did today what I did forty something years ago. We had Jorge playing from the cellphone in the background. He was still, he wouldn't get up, I turned up the volume, played one of Jorges rhapsodies and he sat right up! He sat up bedside and we made several attempts to stand, several attempts to get up and dance. We didnt get far, it was sloppy, but he had the courage to get up and do it. Alex and I are different at our own thirteens, but had he been given the same opportunities, how different would he really be? Today he was sooo much a mirror image. The same exact music, the same exact situation...needing the courage and finding the strength to get up and make that attempt to dance. Forty something years ago I prayed that the Lord allow me that opportunity to get a dance or two in. At my thirteen, I would have never ever guessed that forty years later I would be bedside praying that same prayer...Lord please let me have the courage, the strength to ask for a dance. Lord let whoever I ask to dance (then it was the pretty girls, now forty years later it is my lil man Alex) say yes and let the dance be one of those Jorge Ferriera rhapsodies that lasts forever.
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