Lies We Tell Ourselves about Basic Needs

I found myself telling a lie in a thank you note to two friends who took me to an Indian buffet before I treated them to Hershey Felder as Irving Berlin, which revived talk of Mr. President, the show my class of 1964 saw the summer of 1963.  (The principal thought we'd be too hard to control if we had our trip in 1964 after we'd gotten our diplomas.)

Tom, who's my Partner in Crime when it comes to our love of musicals, sent me a thank you note that included the song "Empty Pockets" from Mr. President.  I had no recollection of it.  But the title made me think of something  written by my brother, who's spent most of  his life in a 24/7 locked facility.  He wrote it just months before he was self-committed to Napa State Hospital.

I typed it up to make it easier to read:

January 8, 1968  English

Dear Mrs. French,

I am in school because I want to lear.  I want to learn how to get along with people.  I want to be a good citizen.  I want people to like me.  I want to learn math and history.  I want to be a good father to my kids.  I want to get a good job when I get out of school. 

I want to get a nice home

I am working on math.

I am in school to learn so when I get out I will be ready for a job.  I want to be smart.

I want to learn and at the same time have fun.  I want a good job.

One that pays good.  And I want to have money in my pocket.

David Elmore Martin

I find this so touching (not to mention sad) that I wanted to share it with Tom and Bill, and I added that we give him money for  his pockets "even though his basic (sigh) needs are met."

That was the lie, not quite avoided with the sigh in parentheses.  What are his basic needs?  He wanted to be a good father to his kids.  He wanted to get a good job and  get a nice home.  

So now he's in a neurobehavioral center, a locked residence with 50+ other people, where he's kept safe, if that's a basic need.  

I'm glad we can make one small part of his modest set of dreams come true by making sure that he has money in his pocket.