A short story by Kurt Vonnegut, entitled “Harrison Bergeron,” begins with this vision of the future:

“The year was 2081, and everybody was finally equal. They weren’t only equal before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. Nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else. All this equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Amendments to the Constitution, and to the unceasing vigilance of agents of the United States Handicapper General.”

The story goes on to explain the various handicapping devices used to bring everyone in society down to the physical and mental level of the least common denominator. Lead weights are attached to the strong to weigh them down, radio devices attached to the ears of the exceptionally smart, to keep them from focusing on any one thought for too long. The beautiful are forced to wear masks to make them less appealing, “so that no one, seeing a free and graceful gesture or a pretty face, would feel like something the cat drug in.”

Upon seeing Daniel Johnston perform recently in Chicago, one thought ran through my head over and over, “The Handicapper General sure did a doozy on Daniel.” Burdened with an overweight body, toothless grin, shaky hands and a brain that has tried to kill him on numerous occasions, Johnston, like the hero Harrison Bergeron, has been saddled with every device imaginable that would destroy a person’s will to achieve, to stand out, to express oneself. Yet, also like Harrison Bergeron, Johnston refuses to be held captive.

He was led onstage and waddled up to the microphone with a smile and a wave, and broke into a slow, one verse version of “Funeral Home.” The crowd was uproarious. I’m guessing that like myself, no one really believed this concert would actually take place, and to see so many other people recognizing the talent buried so heartbreakingly deep in this man, brought tears to my eyes.

He moved on to some selections I was not as familiar with, but no less awe-inspiring for their simple yet universal observations of topics like un-returned love, mean girls, feeling like a retard, pretending that you are dead, rocking the town, and smoking marijuana. Daniel has a surprising vocabulary and a really clever lyrical flexibility. A song called “Mask” is a breathless account of a seemingly heartless girl unaware that her flippant nature has caused Daniel to fall in love with her. She refuses to acknowledge his existence, and now that he is devastated, she laughs at his broken bleeding heart playing “Skip-To-The-Lou, My Darling.”

The other surprising aspect of the show was that Johnston had a full back up band performing with him. Sharks and Seals opened the show with a six-song set and then joined him onstage to round out his performance. They brought a piano that apparently you have to blow into through a tube to operate, guitars, drums, violins and cellos to help convey the passion Daniel Johnston pours into his music.

I’ve got to believe that for Johnston, this current tour is similar to Stephen Hawking’s recent Zero Gravity Flight, fulfilling his lifelong dream of becoming a world famous rock star. Now that the movie, “The Devil and Daniel Johnston” has been released, people actually know and appreciate who this man is and are flocking to see him. They actually added a second show in Chicago because the first one sold out so quickly.

I don’t really expect to see him come back around this way again for awhile. If he does, however, I highly recommend seeing one of the most tireless, intriguing, influential performers of our time, the “Late, Great Daniel Johnston” to watch true heartbreak and perseverance come together.