Who did I used to be?

<>One of the risks of Blogging is that often I can get carried away and just start writing and often my feelings slip out for the world to see. Such was the case yesterday. I was contacted by my buddy Mack this a.m. checking up to make sure I was OK. How cool is that?? He said that I made him sad and I sounded so dejected. I assured Mack that I was OK, jaded, but quite OK and I was getting on with the day. In fact things are beginning to really look up. My phone has been fixed and I have an inbound and outbound line. I am even excited at the prospect of taking calls again. I was getting a little concerned t the extra stress Cecilia, my office mate, was having to endure because I was not able to take calls.

<>When did I get dark? In fact I was quite an anomaly round the center I rehabbed at in Boise so long ago following my wreck in 1966. I was accused of being too happy being a teenager who just lost his hands, legs and who know what else. But, I was happy, I knew I was not going to Viet Nam, a mission or be stuck doing physical labor the rest of my days . Later on at University the same thing, I just could not get upset at many of my fellow students were upset with; I had school paid for, a vehicle I could drive with hand controls and monthly stipend. I had a sense of humor and a will to write and I enjoyed writing—I think this is where I started to darken though. I began to realize, as never before, there was great disparity between equal folks needing or doing the exact same thing. Still I worked it out by writing about these issues in the form of parody, cartons etc. maybe it has been the career in public service, specifically the area of advocating for people with disabilities and those who are “low-income”. So, I guess my “happy out look” has turned to cynicism. I am just one more jaded advocate who tries to do good, bring about change but I know deep down—it’s a bit of a joke, the system is too far gone. The invisible, able-bodied elite run the world silently.

I love to watch the “believers” those masses of young and middle class protected who dabble in private non-profits trying to make a difference. These folks fascinate me. They keep stepping up to the plate to try to hit the “fast ball”. If they can just get a good enough piece of that ball they will make the home run needed to make the difference. Did I ever feel that way?

I wanna be round when that little “believer” cracks the bat and sends the ball all the way out of the stadium and make that bases loaded home run bringing home everyone who needs help and cares about their neighbor.

Hey, did I say thanks to Mack for calling to say he cares…well, thanks