High Ground

I love the wind before a storm, a storm is coming into day and the wind is ripping through the trees out my front door. The temperature is cooler today, partly due to the wind and partial cloud either way it’s comfortable in my house today. I have the front door open and the sound of the gusting wind is great. I suppose this is not the same feeling to those in the Gulf Coast getting ready for the arrival of Gustov.

Dianne is from Louisiana and knows about hurricanes and she has family still Baton Rouge and Dianne is quite concerned. We have been following the storm’s approach for the past two days mostly on the INTENRNET since coverage by local medical has been sketchy at best. Local media has been all full our coming storms and the fires in the state.

I sometimes get a little smug when I see these catastrophes round the county, especially in places where the occur frequently and am quick to say, “why would any one live there” under their on volition. I think I am safe here in the Rockies, no hurricanes, twisters( rarely) and never of any consequence and occasional heavy snows—but even the snow is gone relatively quick. But, we are not so safe here, along the Great Wasatch Front. We are just biding our time. Sooner then later our water is going to run out—its just a matter of time. We do live in a Deseret and the only reason we have what we have is due to irrigation and some benevolent deep well, which are drying up. And then there is the “big one”. The City of Salt Lake is built on a major fault line, that according to all the geologists, is ready to slip and when the fault slips will liquefy the ground and most likely destroy a good portion of this city and surrounding area. We shrug our shoulders for the most part and increase our food and water storage and return to watering and mowing our yards and watching The Weather Channel and the Five-0-Clock news and wonder why those folks continue to live in Louisiana and Florida. I have sister who lives in Tornado Ally in Colorado and she has been wiped out a couple of time but contuse to live there and she is brilliant!

I guess home is home regardless of where one lives and you love where you live or you get out. You take what nature throws at you but your are thankful for all the other days you are blessed with beautiful sunrises and sunsets, winters with out snow or freezing temperatures and great tasting watermelons. The catastrophe hits, you look round and see who made it through, help your self and neighbors, where you can, and get on with your life. My mother-in- law lives in Baton Rouge, she is elderly and somewhat frail and many in the family are trying to get her to live her home and ride out the storm with them but Mom does not want to leave her home and move in with a bunch of youngsters who is all fussing and caring on. Mom knows what she is doing, she has seen it all before and she will get by one way or another after all like she has said numerous time “ I’m on high ground here. I’ll be just fine” then she winks and says good bye.

Eli’s Coming

Back in April of this year I posted Ely’s One Dollar Concert with a link to my You Tube page where I actually had a clip of Ely “sawing” out the national anthem on his cello or base fiddle or what ever one calls his instrument. I paid Ely a dollar for his efforts because I felt funny just ripping off this footage just because Ely was playing in a public space. I knew full well, Ely was playing away for money. I do not know whether his playing was for survival money, alcohol or drug money or maybe extra cash just tgo feel like he was human. Ely clearly has some sort of disability, could be some form of mental illness and some type of physical disability as well. I marveled the first time I saw Ely on that cold wet April afternoon dressed in his hobo clothes with gloves with fingers cut-off to let the fingers through so Ely could finger his instrument. There he was just playing away. Some who have seen the You Tube footage laughed and thought he was a clown. I gave him a dollar- I should have given more, but a dollar let my conscience off the hook.

I play at writing and have been round the block a couple of times, I have even had items published mainly because mainly I have been a little active with local artists groups and foundations who have published anthologies of writer’s with disabilities work. I happen to know the person charged with putting the document together ( editor) and I know she was kind of desperate to get any kind of content—believe me as someone who has be the editor of many newsletters I know how hard getting content can be even if you pay them. When ever a book would come out, Lori would always be sure I got a check usually $25.00 not much but I have to confess it felt good being recognized with money. So, I wonder if that is what drives Ely to “saddle up in the cold and rain” and carry his instrument to wherever he is going to “work” for the day.

I believe things happen for a reason, I don’t know why they just do. I was working away at my desk earlier in the week and I happened to look up out my window, and way cross the street I noticed a little man carrying a cello case. I briefly thought about Ely and the put the thought out of my mind and returned to work. Later in the week at lunch as I was riding the train round city at lunch looking for a place to eat I sat Ely again this time close enough I shouted his name and waved. Ely looked up quickly and looked round as one does when called to in public and not expecting to be recognized. I waved, and Ely saw me, and waved back I think almost as a reflex—Ely smiled distantly trying to recall if he should know me. I saw Ely again the next day dragging his instrument up the street.

I noticed he was wearing the same out fit I had seen each time this week, brown plaid short sleeved shirt, levis socks and shoes. His beard is trimmed and his hair much shorted then in April. Each time I see Ely I call out and wave for I am truly excited to see the man. I want to know Ely, I want to ask him a zillion questions, “ why does he do what he doe, does he make any money, does he know any other pieces besides the National anthem”? I want to know Ely before he becomes a famous downtown icon and lifted out of my reach. I don’t know how to do this except wave and shout his name each time I see Ely.

BTW the reason I started seeing Ely in the vicinity of my office is the USANA Health Sciences is in town holding their annual, international convention just down the street and I am sure the Energy Solutions Arena is where is where I have seen Ely coming and going to. Ely’s play the Arena. Go Ely!!!

The Worlds Best Hamburgers

I used to atop at this little bar on the home from work, when I first came moved to Salt Lake city, called, The Club . The bar had been on the corner of 200 South and about fourth or fifth West for years and years. The place was a dive but colorful. I wish I had an image of the place—its long gone now. I think the place was raised for the 2002 Olympics or maybe even before. On the side of the building which housed The Club was a huge painting of a hamburger and a glass of Coke and underneath this huge graphic was written The Worlds Best Hamburgers. The graphic was a throw back to when burgers were actually formed at the grill and fried and the cook would then put the buns on the grill and toast them, before the burger was placed on the bun. I bring this up because today I had to run over to State street over lunch and I passed a “push cart” grill, I had not seen before. The grill was clean and efficient looked like run by two people, a man and a women, the man was cooking and busy as a one armed paper hanger. The grease scented smoke brought back all the memories of when a person could order a “real” burger cooked the way you wanted and the burger had real flavor an it was a joy to eat.

The vendor was set up in one of the best spot in town, right in front of the Wells fargo building, one of Salt Lake’s largest building. The vendor was also right by the train stop for this block. This IS the salt lake business district, the cook was backed up by as much as six orders at times. The cart was surrounded by white shirt and ties waiting patiently for their lunch to be grilled. “classic burger cheese burger, bacon burger , BBQ burger and a host of vegetarian selections were also being offered”. The cheapest offering was the ”Classic” at $5.00 add a drink and two sides and the offering jumps to $7.00. I waited for about thirty minutes before my burger was ready. And got just the “Classic” without even the Styrofoam container. I got burger that I saw being cooked. The meat was still sizzling when the vendor placed the meat on the grilled bun. I am embarrassed to confess that I ruined my slacks when the juices from the burger and condiments `swelled from the burgher, escaping the napkins provided by the vendor, onto my slacks. I did not care. I was experiencing a moment ultimate flavor not enjoyed since the late fifties.

I wrapped the burger with the extra napkins the vendor provided and still the sandwich trickled on my slacks and red shirt and munched as I waited for the train to come. I was a little self conscience as I boarded the train but not much.—the burger was still cooling and I nibbled the edges; of course the sandwich was completely gone by the time I got back to the office. I had not seen angels but I feel I did have a religious experience.

An Answer

I have to be honest I have been struggling for sometime about how to incorporate a Statewide calendar on my webpage and not overwhelm the visitor to the webpage or myself. I have had Dianne been doing some research on calendars and has found literally hundreds for the State of Utah. I could not how to figure out how I could go through all these and list the items on our web calendar—he task was just over whelming and freaked me out. But today, as I was reassessing the problem I got to thinking ‘why cannot I just develop a whole web-page of calendar links and then have one link on our “official events Page” to other disability calendars Statewide. This could actually be done relatively simply and still be somewhat useable.

Separate but Equal

I know the following is a bit of a rant but I think it's true!

There is a tem in the disability movement,” Separate but equal”. “separate but equal” means what every is offered is the same as something else but the item, event or desired result is the same but offered separately to the individual or class wishing for the specific item, event or result. This term is borrowed from the time of the Civil rights movement when the American blacks was trying to rid this country of the blight of racial segregation. “Separate but equal” was the result of “Jim Crow” legislation following the Civil war and was maintained up to the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. True, the fifties brought the Famous Brown versus the Board of Education, which heralded in the opportunity for a fair equal and education for all Americans but the legislation of 1964, supposedly leveled the “playing field” for all Americans.

People with disabilities watched and waited form their time to come, which eventually did with the passage Section 504 Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973 is a national law that protects qualified individuals from discrimination based on their disability. Section 504 too is basically an education act which paved the way for the passage of the 1990 Americans with Disabilities( ADA). People with disabilities became a protected class under the law. Though the ADA is loaded with loopholes the ADA is a law, and on a good day enforceable!

So why have people with disabilities allowed themselves to slide back into the days of Jim Crow and a separate but equal mentality? I have just suffered through another Olympiad, young, beautiful bodies of every color on Earth, grunting, puffing, diving and lifting in prime-time and all day on the weekends. I watched my fair share basically so my wife, who genuinely enjoys the game, did not have to be an Olympics widow. But by day 5, I could not take it any longer and descended to the bedroom television to find any other programming free of sport. I have noticed though as the Olympics wind down, NBC has started airing “teasers” for the Para-Olympics slated to begin September 6, 2008. Two weeks after the “real” Olympic flame has been doused. It’s not like NBC or other major network is going to carry coverage, if folks ARE interested in seeing the games thy are going to have to have Cable at least or a computer with a broad band hook up. But the coverage of the international pare Olympic games is another rant completely.

Why have athletes with disabilities settled for separate but equal in this time of inclusion?

I worked the 2002 Olympic AND the Para Olympic games in Salt Lake City. Both are big deals. Lots of color, lots of action, lots of pretty people from just about everywhere in the world-the Para Olympic venues are the very exact venues as the Olympic venues, right down to the memorabilia hawkers. It’s kind of eerie, a weird de je vu like, “ didn’t we just do this two weeks ago?” Are these athlete so desperate for their moment on international stage they’ll accept second best—I think this acceptance of second best is counter to the athlete’s need to be the Best in the world and not accept anything else.

Am I the only person with a disability who has not wondered why aren’t these jock and jockets with disabilities part of the “Big Show”? Why are they included with their able-bodied brothers and sister? The answer cannot be money, will actually it is, but there are millions of dollars being spent on the Para Olympic games, it could be political but I think not—I THINK IT’S FLAT OUT SEGERATION! There I have said the “S” word. Separate but equal, Jim Crow. And, we, people with disabilities, have allowed this mockery to happen. We who fought for education, access to restaurants and the movies and a seat on the bus let it slip away for a trip to Beijing and the anonymity of the Para-Olympics.

Letting go

Mark A and Jasmine were over this morning to load the lawn mower into the van so we could take it down to the Sears Trouble Center, where one takes broken Sears products. We were hoping against hope that the Maintenance agreement we had on the lawn mower would somehow pay for the repair of our nearly new, fine nearly new red lawn mower. But of course no such luck and we looked at the machine every way we could, even if we buy the parts for the repair and Mark A can do the repair the cost will still be close to the cost of a new machine, with a warranty. I think Mark A was a bit crestfallen, he really wanted to tear into the machine. He still may get to do it; we have not discussed the final disposition of the red cutter of grass. Mark A has even suggested buying the machine from us then doing the repair.

The point is people just cannot let go. The machine looks to nice to be so mortally wounded. It just does not seem right that mower now is basically worthless. John the guy at the shop said if we left the mower with him at the shop he would throw it away for us. Dianne wants to list the item on EBAY or donate it to charity for a donation slip, Mark A wants to tear the machine apart and I just want to get on to the next life event and put this behind me. I want a new (workable) lawn mower by next Spring/Summer and not have to fret over the whole thing any more. So we brought the mower back and again the mower sits next to the house, on the sidewalk leading to the front steps where, I dare say, the machine will remain all winter.

With the lawn mower adventure out of the way I continued with my adventure downtown. Drove the van up to the train and trained down to City Center stop.

I was headed up to State street and as I came on to state and headed South I noticed two Brinks armored truck parked in front of the US Treasury. There was some sort of innocent transfer of funds going on. I just sat in the shade of the LDS Social services office and looked suspicious. When I noticed one of the suits wearing sunglasses noticing me I decided ,why not have little fun? So, I whipped out my Nikon and started taking images. I really wanted to get a pix of the guard holding the tommy gun(automatic weapon). I took images of the Treasury Bank, the Federal Building across the street I am sure some where, on a building, a lamp pole or even the Brinks truck themselves cameras where whirring a way taking roles of images of a slightly middle aged, overweight crip wearing a blue T shirt and baseball who seemed to be very interested in the goings on at the US treasury Bank.

Water Water Everywhere

Today was the last Kid Day as Anakah starts back to school next week. I have just one more of my month of Wednesday vacations. Ani earned a couple more dollars last night washing dishes and she was set to buy her latte at Beans and brew. But instead of our regular “walk” round the neighborhood we stayed at the house. I did my weekly letter to Mom and Mark Anthony came over to mow the lawn and the lawn desperately needed a “hair cut” and I wanted to make sure the lawn mow happened. We had other options to consider too but too much was happening. We wanted to drop off the other lawnmower off at the Sears repair center to see if we could get the mower repaired under warranty and we still have yet to get by the furniture shop to see if there was any scrap we could take away. But that did not happen. Mark had to get back to the apartments so he took off and Ani and I lunch. We took the van because after we drove over to Mark A’s for a demonstration from the local fire department: fire-truck pulls up loaded with fire fighters, they back up to the hydrant hook up and shoot the fire cannon out over the basketball court and all the kids at the apartments for 45 minutes then leave. The temperature's in the 90’s and chaos ensues as pre-schoolers scream and yell as they enjoy the extended shower provided by the county. Jasmine is in there with the best of the big kids—soon she is back, blue lipped and chattering just long enough to check in with dad and then back under the spray. Great cooling fun.

When the trucks finally left the bigger kids evoperated and the little kids like Jasmine hung round the sand area with their mom’s and Mark A. Mark A played “Mr Science” with iron fillings he had collected from his recent trip to California. Mark has about half a gallon of filling and add a couple of magnets and you have an item which will hold everyone’s interest for hours which it did. A slow, hot lazy summer afternoon drifting into evening; popsicles were passed out and finally Ani and I had to head home. Ani had played a long while in the sandbox with Jasmine it had been a good afternoon.

Happy Together

I have to admit I have kinds enjoyed spending my Summer vacation with my grand daughter, Anakah. We have been providing some of her daycare all summer. Dianne has been picking Ani up after swimming class or Gabe would drop Ani off at the house. So on days that I have had off during the week, most notable my vacations days of Wednesdays this August, I have been taking her out, to begin with to give Dianne a break or a chance to get a little more sleep. We have been either going to Beans and Brew, up on our corner Starbucks. And last week I really shot my self in the foot and agreed to take Ani to the Mall for lunch.

The point is that I have began really enjoying the time we are pending together, even the hideous moments in the Mall where I could not go an inch without being “strong-armed” into buying something or the kid. I never did and I think she did not think for a second that I would but still we played the game.

I taught Ani how to “buy” dollars” with change. Ani would show up at the house ready to go “buy” coffee with a purse full of change where she liberated this change from, I don’t know, nor do I wish to know. But one morning she wanted to trade me four quarters for a dollar bill and I told to take it to the cashier who be happy to change paper for silver all day long. Ani was amazed but learned fast and now changes out her silver as fast as she can and often is packing six or seven dollar bills. Ani has gone with me to the credit union to cash checks and get the loan for the repair on my van—she had detailed regarding my loan status and the loan guy, Michael, fell in “love” with Anakah which is a big reason IO got my loan. Ani also charmed Scotty, my mechanic cousin, when we picked up my van last Friday.

We’re an item now, Ani on my lap as we motor through the neighborhood, going where ever we go on the days when grandpa is home from work. I have learned that Ani really enjoys doing gardening. She has helped me a lot chopping weeds out of our flowers in the front yard. I don’t know why but I was a bit surprised. She says she likes to garden because her dad gardens. People in the neighborhood and the local stores getting used to us. They think we’re cute. I see it in they eyes of the girl who work at the coffee shops or at Arbys where we are becoming regulars, against my better judgment, getting one “five for five” and a water or over at the KFC where Ani always orders the Chicken Nugget kid meal, in the computer(lap top) box. Anakah likes money(literally) way more then I would like her to but in some respects it’s all she has got and I guess I can understand this.

So we are the “mutt and jeff” couple of the neighborhood. People see us but don’t really know too much about us except that we are always there, wearing our hats, she on my his lap and he in his power chair-- who knows where…together.

Waiting

The van is done! Well, actually the van was done yesterday but since I work till 600 in the evening now, I figured, “why stress over it tonight, I’m off tomorrow and collecting the money and then securing the van will give me something to do with Anakah.

I called this morning and my cousin, Scott was out, and Scott makes all the decisions and we also realized when speaking to the shop steward, George that they did not mention the turning of the rotors and that needs to be done according to Scott. Scott informed us when we had the van safety inspected a month or so ago. So, now I figure it will be a couple more hours.

The family seems to be suffering from POSS Post Olympic Stress Syndrome, that groggy burnt out feeling one gets when you stay up way too late watching Olympic events which seem to run all night long. Damn you NBC! Its just too hard to pull them away from the tube. I go to bed but then I get woken up when Dianne comes to bed. My eyes are bleary, gritty and I feel as if I am rolling in slo-mo. The sleepers have now arisen and I am waiting for the call. If the van is indeed complete Anakah and I will go get it, head to the credit union and get the cash and be on our way. It’s been more the forty-five minutes since the call and I don’t know if that is bad news or not. All I do know is that I need to get going…Anakah’s getting way too restless and this morning’s sugar is keeping in and I got to find something or someone to keep her busy. I may write more today or maybe not…Happy Weekend

Grrrrzip

I have been struggling with my computer all day long trying to get this calendar on my webpage to update. We got the new software a few months ago, the software was supposed to make the job of keeping the calendar current easier then what we were having to do—which was contact our web design guy each time we want to change the calendar which was very exasperating but now what I am having to do is even worse. I have to develop list of my calendar updates, then zip these files up and then email it to the web designers.

I used “winzip” when I first got the calendar software. I remember when “Winzip” seemed to be everywhere now a person has to actually by the software. I got a ‘trial license’ where winzip lets you use the software free for forty-five days. I used it a couple of times for got about it. Today I am trying to use the software again but, the message I get is that I have to buy the license,. I even tried totally removing the software from my system and then downloading an new ‘Trial’ but winzip has some way to let them know I have already used the time allotted for free trial.

So now I am going to have to move heaven and earth for a $29.00 piece of software that I use a couple time a month..grrrrrr!

Rain drops Keep Fallin on My Head

We have literally been toiling over the annual report all weekend, my new three day weekend!. I admit Dianne has done the lions share of the work with the actual formatting and even composing some of the narrative but I have watched the granddaughter when the need arose, and I was a round get to ice water, answer questions and give moral support. Doing the annual report, all weekend long was not my first choice on how I wanted to spend the days but the email I got from the boss wanting to meet on Monday to discuss the “finished report” pushed me into action and sense Dianne volunteered to assist I took advantage of her experience and expertise. How ever by Sunday afternoon I was way ready to escape for little while. Dianne had made great efforts with the project and I wanted cook at last one thing over this “lost weekend” and we needed to get some supplies from the market and since I have the only working or legal vehicle in the house I elected to drive-up to the Sunshine Market.

When I took off for the market the day was beautiful, 90+ degrees, blue skies with huge cloud canyons tossed through out the sky. I went the back route third west to Clarke st up to Sunshine market, traditionally I wonder up through the neighborhoods up to State street then down to the market. By going this back rout I was able to watch the clouds. As I traveled down 3^rd West I notice the clouds seeming to come together an a thick black loud line was beginning to form.

By the time I got to the Market the clouds had definitely converged into one dark ridge. The clouds had finally moved infront of the sun and a dark hue fell over our end of the valley.

Forty-five minutes later I was done with my shopping and with double bagged groceries hanging off both handles of power chair, virgin olive oil stuffed into my back pack and a gallon of Viva two percent wedged between my legs I began my trip home. A warm breeze was now coming from the South and the dark threatening clouds seemed to be pressing the very air toward the Earth. As I turned the corner from the market and got on thje back streets to word home the first drops started hitting the ground, hard wet splats. Not a lot at first, intermittent and kind of refreshing. Then the winds increased and what I thought were splatting rain drops were actually little clump of ice, hail and the frequency was increasing. And so was I. I did not make it though. Another block and the whole sky seemed to open and hail and rain came down with a crushing force. I was soon getting soaked and finally found a tree along the side of the street with dry ground underneath. And even though I know better, I took refuge under it’s boughs. I surprised at how long I was able to stay under the tree before the rain drops began to seep through. Like most summer storm, though torrential the storm was also short lived. I was soaked also beginning to dry as I the water filled gutter to my driveway. Grocery laden, dripping and driving a chair nearly exhausted of power I was home and happy to be so.

Working on the Weekend

Its Saturday morning, it’s hot, my butt hurts and I am trying to develop( with the help of Dianne) an annual report to assist me in defusing a “Boss Bomb” which landed in my email earlier this week. Nothing too dreadful just wanting to see the annual report I should have had done weeks ago. It’s my own fault I admit it is just a tough way to spend my weekend, my three day weekend, thanks to Governor Huntsman. Thanks to Dianne’s assistance I am a lot further along then I would have been. If Dianne had not been here I would be a miserable puddle of goo right now. I still have miles to go before I sleep but at least I can see the barn. I have lots of writing to do and some more numbers to tumble but I should have multi-paged document to for the Boss to checkout on Monday.

The wound on my left but cheek still is bothering me fiercely. I have had this wound for over a year now and the thing just refuses to heal. The wound has become chronic and there for so have I. I tried staying off the wound for a whole day earlier this week and I could not handle it. So the next step I am taking is going back to the wound clinic! As much as I hate medical facilities I am at the point that I have to do something with this wound, Dianne and I have been diligently fighting all year, before it metastasizes into something even more alarmingly deadly. I know, its one of those situations where I say I cannot afford to take time to attend to the problem and the good doctor says something like “you cannot afford to ignore this issue. If you think you’re missing work now wait till this thing goes septic…” so hopefully Pain Clinic on Wednesday.

Yesterday when Ani and I went on or “walk” I stopped at the credit union to get some cash for the “walk” and I figured , why not since I was there ask someone about a loan for a vehicle repair. And there was Michael; all dressed down in his Friday casuals emailing someone something. Michael raised a finger as I initiated conversion meaning “ I’ll be with you in just one second.” And he was, Michael was great paying attention to me and flirting with Anakah. He took my information, ran the numbers and said I was most likely good for two thousand dollars which would hopefully cover the van repairs. We got all the way to the end loan application process and the bank guy who does the final approvals was out to lunch—which was OK because I was just kicking tires but I know the loan is there when and if I need the money next week when the cousin gets done with the van. The van may have been ready last night but why fuss. I just get it next week. I gotta go tumble numbers and write

Revolution

State government started a new program today: the four-day work week, four ten one hour days. I am totally excited. When I first went to work for the state, in this position, this was a ten-hour a day position, four days a week. In fact the four ten work week was one of the major factors which drove my decision to take the position when the job opened up. I was mightily discouraged when the new boss ended my run of three day weekends. I accepted the change and returned to the traditional five-8’s knowing that if I lasted long enough with the State I would somehow get to go back to the schedule I loved.

It’s a little bit different now with major parts of the state starting work at 7:00, then it was seven years ago. Before when we opened the office we had the whole office to our selves before the rest of the staff filtered in and we sent them away at the end of the day leaving a half hour after everyone else. Back in those days I drove my van into work every day so I had more control over how late I could leave for work and be to work at the proscribed time. Now I am under the tyranny of public transit which means I must leave the house by a specific time to catch a specific train to get me to my office at the time needed to start my job.

Just for the fun of it, I called around some of my colleagues and friends who work for the State and guess what? No on was there. What a shock. The office is quiet now, Bonnie the new hire, just let for the day and I am alone in the office. I still have thirty minutes to go and the afternoon sun is slipping quickly,into my window and into my eyes, making seeing the computer screen difficult. I doubt that I can write much longer. I enjoy being back on my old schedule. Actually, I never left the old schedule. I continued to come in to work by seven o clock even if I was not able to count the hour—now I an and I will be gone on Fridays.

Life is a revolution

Home Bound

I should have called my cousin’s shop yesterday while I was at the office—but I didn’t. True the phones were busy for a Friday but not busy enough to have taken five minutes to call the shop and get the definitive information as to the status of my van. I used the excuse , ‘it’s Friday afternoon and nothing practical could be done on Friday afternoon’ so I will just call Monday. So why worry about something I have no control over till Monday. The truth is I am frightened, maybe just depressed know the “fix” for my van is going to be well over $1000.00. I don’t have a thousand dollars in saving and don’t have a thousand on my credit card. Maybe, I can get more money on a credit line, or maybe I can go to one of the programs I refer callers to everyday and get a low interest or no interest loan or maybe even a grant or a partial grant which will allow me to get the van repaired but this is going to take time, something I can start exploring on Monday not Friday afternoon.

The family reunion is next weekend. I am not going to make it as I see things right now. Even if I got the van up and running I will still have to pay for the room, meals and gas. I was planning on putting these expenses for Dianne Anakah and me on the credit card which would just about max me out and a burden I would have to shoulder for a number of months but doable. Now, I cannot see how I can do it

The biggest drawback of not going is not seeing mom. Mom is frail, living in long term care and has been living for the reunion when a major portion of the kids will get together. The short period of time an aged mother lives for her only validation that she lived, had a family and that family remains intact. A quick 24 hours of crammed family, a shot to last her another year, if she has another year—most likely not. The brother and sisters and extended family I can miss for one year—I hate to but I feel they will understand but mom I don’t know. Actually maybe I am just flattering myself maybe there will be so many people there with grand kids bouncing off walls , tables and laps the wheelchair guy will not be missed, maybe a collective sigh will be heaved, “ now we can go to a real restaurant or even to one of the houses steps and narrow bathroom doors.”

You know what is really weird? What if I did not get my van fixed?

Could I go a year with out a van—really rely on public transportation and my power wheelchair—make it to work, meetings and life? It’s a seductive thought for me, almost selfish. No gas payments or maintenance no vehicle up keep. Still, in the heat of summer is one thing but in the rains of Fall and snow of Winter is quite another.