Buzzing me in, he blocks my path saying, "Can I have a moment?"
"Sure," I answer, readjusting the things I'm lugging inside for our weekly concert.
"Hmm," he begins looking pass me, not in the eye, "There are auditors and supervisors here and ... umm ... we'd like for you to ... er ... filter the show."
I burst out laughing and he keeps looking pass me.
"You mean you don't want me to cuss?"
"Yes," he quickly says. "For today can you just filter it?"
"Sure," I agree heading into the Dining Room where they wait.
As a representative of Bar Church, I don't cuss a lot at the Nursing Home but there is a song we do with the line "Kiss My Ass" in it and the inmates love it!
"Y'all ready to break out of this dump?" I ask. "You ready Captain?" I say to the old sailor who smirks in response then we break into song.
"If I had a boat, I'd go out on the ocean ..."
It's a wish every single person in the audience share. They hate being there. They don't care for their caregivers. So I call them "inmates" and they appreciate the honesty.
And when we sing the song, they sing ... and when the line comes around , they giggle and smirk and direct the words to the people who keep them locked inside.
A group of us perform several songs and there's a great energy in the room. The inmates are genuinely happy we're there while numerous Nurses and Administrators hover nearby to see if we're "filtering."
We start the song and sing it as it should be. The inmates are happy and ready for their favorite part which starts, "But Tonto he was smarter and one day said, 'Kemo Sabee' kiss ..."
I stop singing at that moment to explain we're being filtered.
"We're doing the single version today with the line beeped out. You can get the word on the album version. Anyway, I think Tonto just wanted to give him a kiss or something ... What do y'all think?"
They laugh, calling out suggestions on things to be kissed when an old lady in her wheelchair in the back mutters, "Kiss my ass!"
Immediately we break into the chorus and everyone sings along ... except the Nurses, Auditors and the Administrators who are writing things down.
Monty Parks who's playing with us decides it's a great time to do one last song and get away as quickly as possible.
We break into old Gospel songs and the inmates sing, clap, shake shakers and beat tambourines.
"Alright," I say at the end. "We'll see you next week! Y'all be good, follow the rules and do everything they tell you."
The inmates stare in stony silence.
"JUST KIDDING!" I laugh. "Break the rules! Have a good time!"
And the joy of the past hour quickly evaporates as a weary dreariness fills the room. The television is turned on and "Wheel of Fortune" blares.
"Are you coming back?" they ask in desperation, holding onto us.
"Next week," we assure.
Afterwards I'm exhausted and want a drink. It takes a lot out of you to give so much.
Because there is absolutely filtered about the love we share with the inmates.
