Nick Traina (he was the author's natural son and not adopted as one reviewer noted) was truly a gift. Bright and highly verbal, Nick demonstrated rare talents from a very early age. At 6 months, he greeted people with, "I'm incredible!" And indeed he was. He spoke in full sentences by age one and his first birthday party brought a smile to my face when Nick insisted on having "disco music and a clown" (remember folks, this was 1979). As a toddler, Nick talked about "when he was big" and he "was here before." I was sorry the author was terrified by this and did not wxplore this further as it would have been interesting to know Nick's perspective.
Nick abosbed languages early and was fluent in Spanish and Italian before he was three. He made fine distinctions in language and this was apparent in his refusal to learn French. For some reason, Nick never liked French and objected strenuously to hearing it spoken in his presence.
I loved Nick's strong stand on everything. He refused to wear certain things ("that has a giraffe on it! You expect me to wear that! ") and showed a maturity that one does not readily associate with toddlers.
Problems showed up early in Nick's life. Slow to toilet train, Nick wet and soiled himself and the bathtub until he was four. Pictures were done in harsh, black crayon. Nick showed sexual precocity by pinching women's bottoms and talking in quite an adult sounding manner about "loving the ladies." This from a pre-schooler!
Nick's flair for the original marked his entire, short life. He methodically collected and sorted baseball cards, he loved lip synching in costume at his school's annual show, he loved writing poetry and singing. It came as no surprise to learn that Nick got his own rock band together while still a teenager and that his poetry was of an unusually high caliber.
Nick's mental illness appeared to show up early in his life, but it was not until he was in middle school that it was formally recognized. He reverted to soiling the bathtub at age 11 and the death of a classmate seemed to set his development back further. On the one hand, Nick was very much a child, rebelling about clothing and on the other hand he exuded an adult aura that was at times, frightening. A good example of this was how he convinced the daughter of a friend of his mother and adopted father that he was really in college and that he was really 21. (He was about 12 then). It was incredible, (yes, Nick's word) that this child was so precocious in adult sexual behavior and very convincing in his presentation. He clearly had a gift for acting from all accounts and was wonderfully original and creative.
During his teen years, Nick suffered breakdowns and was hospitalized. Whenever he toured with his band, he had a medical attendant tag along to supervise him and be sure he had his regular dosages of medication. Nick seemed to accept his mental condition and seemed to feel he would just have to cope with it. In typically sounding Nick fashion, I couldn't help smiling at the author's description of how Nick was mentally on a par with adult patients, but nothing like them as far as life experiences. He had never had to confront day-to-day issues of adult life, e.g. raising a family, paying taxes, job hunting, buying a home and the like. Intellectually, Nick could hold his own and do so admirably. He was one of the most interesting people I have ever read about.
Sadly, Nick was like a comet. Bright and beautiful, a gifted work of art, Nick was so consumed with depression and mental illness that he ultimately took his life. Like a comet, the likes of this bright light will never be seen again.