VC has finally started a pediatric clown program at Comer Children’s Hospital at the University of Chicago. We’re so happy to get back to our clown roots.Our four veteran performers dove right in and we’re training up some of our newest team. Here’s a story from a recent day:

Dr. Queenie and Dr. Dot spent a lot of time in clinic waiting room with four kids all about 2-4 yrs — they loved the bubbles and possum puppet George. Then we met a lovely young man (about 17 or 18) who stopped us just as we were leaving 4th floor waiting room, to tell us he remembered us from when he was at Comer when he was younger. A really nice conversation culminating in Dr. Queenie offering to sing a song with his name in it, and Dr. Dot coming up with all sorts of interruptions — he thanked us for both the song and the laughs!

Also had great laughs with nurses on 5th floor — they thought the ukelele didn’t have strings so Dr. Dot claimed it was a mime uke and sounded much better. They laughed SO hard at a joke that was not THAT funny — they really needed to laugh!

 

We had a particularly responsive day at Dimensions Living in Burr Ridge, in the memory unit. As we were about to leave, a daughter of one of the residents on the second floor flagged me down and asked if she could talk to me for a second. She went on at length about how grateful she was for our visit, saying that her mother was excited when she found out we were coming because, in her opinion, we were the best thing at the facility. The daughter also commented on the way we connected to everyone as individuals, recognizing and appreciating the skills and experience required to engage this particular audience. When I responded that we love making connections and we really care about the people, she smiled and said “Well, it really shows!”

– After a circus-themed performance at Citadel Wilmette (a surprisingly culturally diverse facility), something lovely happened. A man was with his wheelchair-bound mother for her first day at the Citadel. Artie told the Activity Director that he really loved how we interacted with the audience members, especially how we treated his mother, who had been nervous and scared to move into a new place. The Activity Director told me to go talk to Artie right away. I did, and it turns out he is a documentary filmmaker and wanted to make a film about Vaudeville Chicago and the effect of laughter, music, and improvisation on seniors with dementia and memory problems. Note: Artie filmed us at several performances, interviewed us, and made some studio video, so this project is happening.

– We’ve had several Activity Directors who changed facilities have us come to their new places. However, it was more remarkable when this happened with a Chief Administrator. Jon Ragsdale was the Executive Officer at Norwood Crossing for years. We’ve been appearing there since 2004. When he moved to the same position at Central Baptist Village in Norridge, he insisted that we “work our magic” at his new facility. This is what “becoming a part of the culture” at an institution can mean.

Pouchy, the Forgotten Elf, and Vegas Broad Jinx did a holiday show in December. In the community room, we had staff and residents alike coming in to lend a hand for a rendition of “Put Your Hand In The Hand Of Man.”  During our singing we noticed resident L, known here as Lilly, sitting alone near reception. On her lap she held a toy, a musical Christmas tree. The tree became the center point of our song, a goofy little improv number that had Jinx and Pouchy dancing merrily with Lilly, who moved deftly in her wheelchair.

Afterward, she confided to us that she was mostly blind, but loved what she could see of Pouchy’s shiny golden elf shoes. Lilly enjoyed the sensation of Jinx spinning a balloon ball on the tip of her finger. Before we left, Jinx crafted her another toilet paper rose. Having felt the toilet paper before it became a flowe,r she exclaimed delightedly, “That’s the most amazing creation.”

The word of the day was Western.

I was the raccoon-wearing, jug-spitting, and true fool Dan’l Goon. Danny is as foolish as he is ignorant, armed with an assortment of jokes and tall tales for young and old alike. Kevin would be my partner today, or perhaps I should say my pardner since today he would be Kevin the Quirky Cowboy. His weapon of choice was the lasso, the actual Kevin being incredibly adept at rope tricks.

Hartwell is home to many aging adults with various levels of memory loss. Residents and patients vary wildly in their ability to communicate. We had to take each new person on their own terms and find the level of engagement that worked for them at that moment.

Early on we found one woman we will call Penny. She was making painful noises and shouting things out, but when we sang to her, she sang right along with us. She had no issues speaking to us after that and by the time she left she had a crooked little smile on her face.

In the public spaces, Kevin was eager to showcase his rope tricks, which quickly gathered a lot of attention from onlookers. As the cowboy showed off his skills, Dan’l worked the crowd. I helped get everyone applauding. Even something simple like clapping your hands together can lead a crowd into a sense of cohesion and togetherness. Joining together in the spectacle transformed the space into something shared and celebrated. A private aide told us later that he’d never seen his patient so actively participate in any group activity.

On the third floor we met with Tess, who was recovering from a broken leg and clearly bored to tears. Her eyes glimmered with mischief and she cackled when Dan’l shared some off-color jokes with her.  “No one else tells me naughty jokes. Thanks so much. I miss this.” With some people you just know that what they really need is to be treated like the adults they are.

The highlight of the day might have come during our interaction with a resident from Hawaii. Kevin, seemingly from nowhere, pulled up a class sounding Hawaiian ditty called “Pineapple Princess.” I’m not even sure he knew that he had that in his head until he was spontaneously singing it.

The tune of it still rang in my head at the end of our day as we moseyed off into the sunset.

All of our work includes music: singing, ukulele, guitar, tiny trumpet, and more. Music creates some of the most lasting memories we hang on too. Here are some stories that show the power of this art:

On the 2nd floor, almost skipped this room, the lady was flat on her back staring at the ceiling while the TV blasted away.  When I peeked in she looked over and smiled at me in my crazy costume… I asked if I could turn down the TV and sing to her – “yes please,” she said.  I launched into “Home on the Range” and she started to sing along, in a beautiful thin soprano.  I complimented her lovely voice, asked if she’d sung in choirs, she said she loved to sing.  “Do you know Jesus Loves Me?” I’d never played it on the uke but said yes and we sang it together, and then Amazing Grace. She asked about another spiritual which I didn’t know. But she was ok with that.  Then she said, “Music is good for the heart.” 

Dorothy and Melvis visited resident WM in her room on the 3rd floor. She said she was happy to see the performers again and when discussing the 4th of July, the resident repeated “freedom” and “justice.”  Melvis and Dorothy sang “If I Had a Hammer” which the resident to listened intently.  The resident transformed from rigidity and repetitiveness into a toe-tapping, clapping singer.  She thanked the performers profusely.

We visited the 4th and 3rd floors, performing in the desk area and then in the big room – we got a great reception.  Favorite part there was the grumpy guy who sits by the 3rd floor elevator and doesn’t engage with us but sang the “Star Spangled Banner” in its entirety with us.

Dr. Gesundheit:

We were at one of our most challenging facilities. T, who was born blind was sitting alone and carrying a printed Bible. I told her it was an unusual purple Bible and she asked us to describe purple to her. How to describe a color to a blind person? Pam told T her Bible was the color of grape juice or grape jelly. I told her purple was also the color of eggplants and royalty. She went through all the colors. Green is the smell of freshly cut grass in the spring- green is the color of a lime and crisp lettuce. She was totally delighted. I told T. that she was the deep brown color of a dark chocolate cake. “Chocolate? Praise the Lord. Thank you, Jesus, I love chocolate. I love German Chocolate Cake most of all.” I told T that her beautiful cropped short white curly hair was like coconut frosting on the Chocolate Cake. Her smile and pride and tearful joy in all of this was one of the best moments we’ve experienced.