One Big Happy Very Weird Family

A story of coming together.

…Continued from Fatherhood Journals.

Rose had been coming home every Thursday for weeks so excited, hands flapping, feet bouncing, saying, “I'm going to see my friends at music bingo!” Every Thursday Stuart responded, “Music bingo? When is that? And where?” And every Thursday Rose didn't know, Stuart told her they couldn't go, and Rose would have a meltdown.

Every Thursday, that is, until the second week of November when Rose brought home an invitation from her friend, Dante. Thanksgiving dinner and music bingo at Paco’s, a pizza joint on the other side of town.

Stuart almost said they couldn't go because of the holiday. That’s when his wife, Wren, took the invitation from him, raised an eyebrow, and told him, “Stuart, we're going.”

…Continued from Adrift, Awash, Alone.

That morning a few weeks ago was a real banger. 

The sound of a text message rapped like a gavel on Ian’s ears, shocking him awake. The sunlight stabbed his eyes as he reached for the Advil before the phone.

It was Rico, an old Navy buddy.

Hey Ian. If you're not busy (and come on, man, I know you're not 😉) stop by on Thanksgiving. We'll be at Paco’s at 7:00pm. We'd love to see you. 

He tried to rub the hangover off his face.

His thumbs barely managed, Sure! I'll be there!

He did not feel like exclamation points.

…Continued from Strength in Weakness.

Last Saturday, Jude strolled through the Chesapeake Farmers Market heading directly for a particular table.

“Hey, Jude!”

He heard Glen call from a few tables away. With a smile and a wave, Jude picked up his pace to meet him.

Jude has enjoyed getting to know Glen and his better half, Dottie, over the last couple of months. He met them here at the farmers market back in June, trading tips about organic gardening, and over time a friendship grew. Glen and Dottie had been missionaries for over 40 years spending much of their time in Europe, so the three of them had a lot to talk about. He even helped in their garden which, to him, seemed more like a small farm.

Jude inspected a bright red bell pepper that he likely tended and picked.

“You know,” Dottie said, “you ought to come to Paco’s on Thanksgiving. We're all going to be there at seven for music bingo. And you should bring Tristan, too.”

Jude had no Thanksgiving plans, so he smiled and replied, “Yes! We'll be there.”

Ian drove by Paco’s many times on his way to somewhere else. Just a typical bar and pizza joint. Nothing special. He glanced at his phone one more time to check the address, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

He did not expect the scene before him. 

Paco’s looked like an old German beer hall squeezed into a small restaurant in a strip mall. Dark wood made up the floor, and the same color paneling rose three feet up the walls, with plaster continuing up to the ceiling. Four long tables made up the dining room with smaller tables and stools near the bar. A slight haze from the kitchen hung in the air, as an old pizza oven and a deep fryer filled it with aromas of crispy pepperoni, bubbling cheese, and tender wings. Television screens showing the late football game lined the walls. A jukebox, pinball machine, and two pool tables stood against the back wall and another machine, the kind filled with toys and a single claw, stood near the entrance. 

To his right, a DJ stood on a small stage with a giant speaker, a table, and a small upright replica of the wheel of fortune. 

And the place was packed.

“Ian!”

Out of the crowd a hand shot up and waved. Rico got up and walked to the door to meet him.

“Hey man, glad you could make it. It's great to see you!”

“Good to see you, too.” He looked around, bewildered. “Pretty big crowd for a holiday.”

“Music bingo every Thursday. We got a lot of people here who wouldn't miss it for the world,” Rico laughed. “Come on, I'll introduce you.”

Coming closer, Ian noticed something. People from all walks of life made up this crowd: older folks and younger, people with money and others not as much, families, singles, sports fans, artists. And nearly a third of them were teenagers and adults with disabilities.

“Is everyone here with you?” Ian asked.

“No, it's just about fifteen of us here at these tables, but all the special needs folks are with us. Everyone else is a regular that’s been coming here longer than we have. Over the last couple of years they’ve come to love this group. We’re kind of like one big happy very weird family.”

Rico led Ian around the crowd, introducing him to their group. Rico’s son, Dante, a young man in a Texas Rangers ball cap, focused intently on three music bingo cards. Dante's friend Rose, stood spinning in circles, looking through a book she held over her head while bouncing to the beat of the music. Rose’s parents, Stuart and Wren, chatted with Rico’s parents, Dottie and Glen, and their friends from the farmers market, Jude and Tristan. Ian recognized Tristan from somewhere but couldn’t place him. And there were so many others.

The DJ cut to the next song, and on the first note of Sweet Child O’ Mine, Dante shot up out of his chair waving a card over his head, “Oh! Oh! Bingo!” He ran to the stage and all his friends followed as everyone in the place cheered.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Legend has done it again! All right, Legend, come on up and spin the Wheel of Negotiation where there are – no – losers!” the DJ called.

Dante’s spin ended on “Shooter,” which would not have been a good idea. The DJ looked at Rico, who raised his hand to signal five, then announced, “Looks like five dollars off the tab for the Legend! Alright folks, round one is still going!” He cut to the next song.

Ian, Stuart, Jude, Tristan, and Rico sat together at a table along the back wall next to the pinball machine.

“This is pretty cool what you have going on here,” Ian remarked.

“Yeah, and Rose is having a great time,” Stuart agreed.

Jude nodded. “Seems like all the regulars are in on it, too. You have what looks like a thriving community. How long have you been coming here?”

“Funny you bring that up,” Rico laughed. “This whole thing started with me and Dante and my other son, John coming here. John and I would play pool while Dante played music bingo. He won so much and so consistently, that's why Drake, the DJ, calls him ‘the Legend.’”

Rico sipped his Sprite. “That was about three years ago. Over time we've gotten to know the crowd. Dante invited friends from Special Olympics. Then he invited friends from school. And now, well, we pretty much took over the place.”

The scene before Ian did feel like one giant family party. But it wasn't. The kindness and respect between friends, acquaintances, and strangers alike gave him some hope that the world is not as far gone as it looks on most days. It seemed there are still good people out there, and Paco’s had a monopoly on them.

Just then, a man who had been sitting at the bar wearing jeans and an untucked white pinstriped button-down shirt went over to the claw machine. On his first try he snagged a small stuffed baby deer, walked over to Rose, and gave it to her. She flapped her hands in excitement as he patted her on the shoulder then looked at Rico and winked.

“Yeah, there's some good stuff going on here,” Rico said, almost to himself. “Take that guy for example. His name is Felix. He's a former business executive who for some reason hangs out in this little bar. He's been coming here longer than us. One day he started winning the toys from that machine – he just has a knack for it – and giving them to Dante and his friends. As the crew continued to grow, he came to me and was like, ‘Hey, what are you doing here? This is really great, and I want to help.’ He offered to put up money to help the organization he thought I was part of. When I told him there was no organization and that it was just us, he laughed and said he wanted to help anyway. 

“And that got me thinking. I can see we have a community here, but I feel pulled to do more. I have lots of ideas. I’m just trying to figure out how to make them come together.”

“What kinds of ideas?” Ian pressed.

“Well, I’m working as a general contractor. First of all, I'm going to be fifty in a few months and my body can't take it anymore.”

Ian, Stuart, and Jude all chuckled, recalling their own creaking knees. Tristan rolled his eyes.

Rico continued, “Contracting is hard work, and at the end of it, I have to give people a huge bill many of them will struggle to pay. I don't get any satisfaction out of that. But this group,” he gestured over his shoulder to the two tables of friends with four tables of energy between them, “they give me satisfaction. A lot of times I feel like we are the ones with special needs. The world is just tearing itself apart, but they don't care because they have each other and music bingo.”

He looked up to the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. “I have land. I can build things. I’ve played with the idea of building a place on the property that could be a community home or group home, a place that would be theirs. And maybe it would have something for the parents, too. A place for them to be together while their adult children entertain themselves.” 

Rico looked at Stuart. “Being a special needs parent is hard, right Stuart? If you don’t mind me asking, when was the last time you and Wren went on a date?” 

“Aside from an occasional lunch or dinner date? Like taking her to a concert or something?” Stuart paused. “It's been ten years.”

Rico slapped the table. “That's why we need something for the parents, too.”

“I can help.” The words came out of Ian’s mouth before he could think.

“Me, too,” Stuart and Jude joined in. Tristan shrugged his support.

“Alright… thank you,” Rico smiled at all of them. “I have no idea what we're about to get ourselves into. But I'll toast to that.” 

They all clinked their plastic cups and sipped their sodas.

“All right, that's the end of round one,” Drake called out, “and it's time for the Paco’s halftime show brought to you by Little Miss Rose. Rose, come on up and tell me who we’re going to listen to during the break.”

Rose leapt out of her seat and ran to the stage. Drake leaned down to hear what she said and burst out laughing. 

“Okay, folks, you're going to love this. For the halftime show, we've got Katy Perry, Dolly Parton, and ... Shaggy. Rose, that's probably the best combo I've ever heard. Thank you.”

On the first downbeat of Firework all the friends cheered then found the largest empty spot on the floor to dance and sing along as the rest of the crowd cheered them on.

Ian took in the scene, a far cry from anyone’s idea of a traditional Turkey Day. Yet he felt a real love, joy, and gratitude flowing between everyone there. The tables may have been decked in a bounty of pizza and wings, but sincere and profound kinship made this Thanksgiving perfect.

To be continued…

This is a work of fiction based on actual events.

If you would like more Thanksgiving goodness, check out this episode of the amazing podcast, Neighborful Station. Each episode is a story-based meditation on community and friendship, written and produced by my good friend, Michael Sperger. 

You may remember that I mentioned him in my first blog post as being the inspiration I needed to get me off my duff and do some writing. His passion project has evolved since then and it’s growing into something truly beautiful that we all need to hear. Personally, I look forward to each new episode every Saturday morning. Check it out on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or whatever podcast app you normally use.

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