The Coolest Retard

Just who is the coolest retard? In every social circle, there is hierarchy. Just because the retarded are not the smartest bunch – and you could fool them into thinking “hierarchy” is a “silly cake that a funny clown eats” – doesn’t mean that there aren’t some “cool” retards. As a teen in the early eighties I worked at an audio store at a farmers market. One night while blasting Eric Clapton over the speakers, I noticed a young almond eyed lad approaching the store. He was drawn to the loud music in a most curious way. He was indeed excited – titillated if you will – by the music.

I knew something was different about this boy. The common retard gets excited over the most ridiculous things:

- the sighting of the B101 yellow jacket mascot at a super market opening (obvious to even three year olds by the screening over the mouth and the exposed zipper that ‘this ain’t no bee).
- The phase, “Got your nose”?
- Outstretched arms followed by, “Does anybody want a hug”?

In some way, old almond eyes was different – but why? As he approached the speakers, his funnel cake powdered fingers began to twitch. He was going for it. In a very subtle way, my man began to slowly air guitar – not full force mind ye’ – but ever so gently. He was actually showing in his eyes a feeling that he was cool. Now I’m no anthropologist, but I’m sure retards in their natural environment – the wild –would NEVER try to be cool. It made no sense. Was a witnessing an evolutionary leap?

I watched in awe as his large tongue pushed his lower lip to a protrusion not unlike a seventh grader in his early air guitar days….or an ape – the kind with the freaky colorful cauliflower type ass. What the hell was I witnessing? He looked at me – I looked at him. What was going through his brain? Especially the portion of his brain housed in that big noggin region shading his eyes?

He continued his tribute to Clapton. And finally, he was finished. As he walked away, he turned, and looked at me,

“See you later….Fonz” I said.

He looked away, then toward me again. Slowly lifting his hand – he gave me the thumb’s up and mumbled, “Keep on keepin’ on”.

I will my friend…I will.