Fee Fie Foe Fum

If anyone could come close to Paul Canton in neutralness, it was Barry Osmond. I have limited and sketchy notes about this six-foot-six artist, partly because he stayed at Sugar Loaf for only a few months, partly because other than his height he didn't stand out much, and because he had only one trait that made him more than a shadow. Barry Osmond was a giant Sequoia that never grew cones.

I did note in my Journal our first meeting: "I looked up at him --- way up --- and thought, 'God, I hope you never go violent!' He never did, but his mere size put everyone on edge.

Barry was underdeveloped in several ways: primarily, socially and artistically. I suspect that years ago an elementary teacher put on his report card, "Promising." But never followed up by offering ways to develop his innate talent.

When I served as a Program Manager I witnessed his talent when I pushed a piece of drawing paper in front of him. Casually I said, "I wonder if an eagle, with outstretched wings, would fit on that?" It seemed to have caught him enough off guard that he forgot whatever it was that held him back, and with a few deft strokes, charcoaled a stunning outline of a bird in full flight. But nothing was fleshed in. Even so, the outline revealed that the man had the artist's eye and considerable eye-hand coordination. The sketch revealed a great bit about the man.

Barry had one other talent, one that constantly got into trouble: he liked to sneak into girls' bedrooms at night. He simply couldn't keep away

from the comforting warmth of the female body. His actions petrified many ladies, it horrified others, pleased a few, and provoked the Sugar Loaf Staff into having him join the rotating Circuit before a full stay. It is unfortunate that someone couldn't have come forth and acted as a surrogate mother for the gentle giant: I see how it could have happened. For Barry never engaged in any sexual act --- remember, his cones had never developed --- he only wanted the warmth and security women offered. I thought it a shame that the maternal instincts of one lady could have taken charge and made Gargantua's stay more pleasant.

Every time I saw Barry I shook my head. Indeed, why was a man as artistically promising laid so low? If only he had his full faculties, couldn't he have produced great things for the benefit of mankind? What a waste that this man was held back from becoming his full self. I never projected the thought to "normal" people, those outside of Sugar Loaf: how many of them don't use their full talents? I could only wonder why this massive fellow was capable of articulating only fee-fie-foe-fum and not be comforted at night by a warm backside.