My band plays a fair number of independent living and assisted living places. We go way back to Stephen Foster and songs you learned at camp, and 1930s and ‘40s hit tunes, and Roy Rogers and Gene Autry, and we get a great response.
Sometimes after the main show the social director will ask if we can come and do a few songs for the “memory unit.” That’s a code word that means “dementia patients.” I get a good feeling about playing for these folks, because it seems that music can get into mental places where the rest of the world is locked out. People seem to come out of whatever remote space they are inhabiting and join the real world for a while.
Recently we were booked at a place where the entire clientele is dementia patients. Could we keep people’s attention for a whole hour? I did not know. A bunch of people were in wheelchairs; at least one appeared to be asleep. Some perked up when they saw our fancy cowboy duds. I took that as a good sign.
Pauline, my longtime singing partner, started off with “I’m an Old Cowhand from the Rio Grand,” which has a nice bouncy beat and dates from the 1940s or earlier. Happily, we had most of the crowd’s attention. And as song followed song, it was apparent that even the most remote patients were involved at some level.
There was one elderly woman in a wheelchair who scarcely moved, and who appeared to be asleep. But one foot was gently tapping to the music. Those who were more mobile clapped enthusiastically after each number. It was a really gratifying show.
The day impressed me with just how deep the love of music is ingrained in the human brain. I remembered how back in high school my very first band, The Carquinez Valley Boys, used to play shows for the Red Cross at the Napa State Mental Hospital. The doctors there told us they loved having us come because people who never moved from their seats at record player dances got up and danced enthusiastically.
It’s days like this that make me happy and a little proud to be a musician. As we all know, the money isn’t much, but when you can connect with little kids, or make a smile light up the face of a person who hasn’t heard the song you are singing since they were young, or get an Alzheimer’s patient to tap her foot — well, that’s pretty special.
