Just another Miracle

This guy is hosing down the parking lot where the elephants and zebras lived while visiting Salt Lake City...

I leave for the train, actually the bus which then takes me to the train, way early now at 5:55 a.m., no later and some times even earlier. I am able to the hope up to the bus stop by 6:00 and my bus comes then about six minutes after the hour. Its way dark now when I leave for the bus and the darkness is OK—I am traveling through residential area and through a church parking lot to get to State street and my bus stop. My ride ride through the neighborhood is a quiet one and I have never really thought of what I would do if I ran into problems on this short leg of my morning commute. However, this morning gave me pause. This morning, I had just gotten past the church parking lot and I was on the sidewalk heading toward State street. I might mention usually at this point I use one of the driveways to leave the sidewalk and entry the street where I will stay until I cross State street and get to my bus bus stop. I am usually pretty good at this I don't know what happened tis morning. One moment I was safe on the sidewalk heading East toward a driveway to let me down to street level and the next moment I felt myself precariously balanced on the left side wheels of my power chair realizing I had just dropped myself off the side of an eight inch curb. On the scale of dangerous I could have done one being just galling out of my chair and “10” having my chair roll out of control in the front of an on coming Trax train this was about a four.

I had of those “ everything switches into slow motion” moments where a person can have extended and complicated thought in the split second impending trauma is finding the body. I immediately noted, I was no longer on the sidewalk, that I had done something completely stupid and that I was about to tip over my power chair with me in it and I was sorting out how to land if I had th option to control the fall at all, would I be able to get to my cell phone after I land to call Dianne or 911 to get me back in my chair and on with my life or would I just lay there until some geese monkey driving to work would stop and hopefully figure out a way to get me back into my chair. I just hope the such a person sees me and my chair laying there before both of us get run over. In the split second these thoughts were piercing my brain I say my hand on the controller push tom the right—I have to state his was not a conscious act. I pushed the joystick to right, hard and the chair followed and almost as quick, I was all four wheels on the ground, moving forward. I had to stop-right there and then and evaluate just what had happened and to make sure I was still in my chair. I did and I was. I had o stop and give a fast prayer of thanks before I continued on my way-- just seemed right. I tried not to ponder what could have been.

I left the train at my down town stop and cut through the Utah Paper Box Company parking lot and had just crossed the street , I was on the sidewalk almost to the office building when my backpack just fell off the front of my chair where I usually have it securely bungied up. As my back pack fell it turned upside spelling out my lunch, camera, bungee cord and a host of other items. It took a minute or two plus the assistance of a kindly stranger gut I definitely was getting the feeling that something strange was going on in my universe.

The circus left town for Denver this weekend, infact the last of the circus tucks left just a few hours after lunch. The hosiers moved in with their super powerful water cannon(s) BLASTING THE ELEPHANT AND ZEBRA POO off the parking lot and down the drain. The circus has left the city.

Whoa! I just came off curb, unexpectedly, i was on my two side wheels. I felt like i was going over! But i drove out of the fall. PTL!!

Bomb Scare

A number of years ago a tornado passed through Salt Lake City, I was working for Governor's Council at the time doing the job I essentially do now which is answering the phone doing information and referral. I rarely leave the city for work and during the month I am gone from time to time participating in various meeting but I am usually round. But, on the date in question I was in another City entirely(Provo) I think for an afternoon meeting—I drove my van to make this meeting not getting back to my office till after 3:30 pm. It was early in the day the tornado past through causing terror and destruction to the Wasatch Front. I missed the whole thing, probably the only tornado to visit this area—ever and I missed it. I always wanted to see a real tornado. I think not only seeing this weather disturbance I also want to feel the anxiety of Nature's angst and the excitement of the moment.

Yesterday morning I was waiting for the train, my usual train. There is one train which comes just after the bus drops me off—this train is the University train. I usually wave this train past choosing to wait for the Downtown train so I was taken a back when the driver gos out of his way to ask if I wanted to board this train since all the trains were being halted at 500 South the Court House stop because downtown was quarantined, no one was getting in or out on the train—actually it was just one area of downtown which had been isolated and the train cold not get passed this point. Downtown was 'locked don due to a suspicious item found near the Federal Court house. BOMB!!

I don't know if it was a bomb threat or a bomb scare, regardless the event was being taken seriously by SLCPD and various other State and Federal agents. I was impressed that the transit authority were on their toes and had put together a number of bus bridges to get the train passengers from the train to their downtown destinations, awkward but doable. As our train pulled into the Court House station there were emergency type vehicles everywhere—ed, yellow and blue lights flashed everywhere and a lot of milling round by suites and uniforms. The air was filled with chatter,static and excitement—something was going to happen. I zipped down the ramp and over to my waiting bus which I found out was full and I had wait for the next. I called Frank at the office—I could tell I was going to be late for work.

My bus followed same route as the train, dropping me off at my regular stop. I was only about ten minutes late—which, I guess, is not bad for a city wide emergency. You know I was glad things went smooth and I got to my office and and had a smooth,low-key day. Maybe I am getting old but the morning was just the right amount of excitement—no one died, especially me, and I had something to write and talk about. Maybe I can live without tornadoes.

Elephants for Dinner?

The worst thing about being physically disabled is being physically disabled, not being able to do what everyone else can do just because they have the physical means to do what they need to do. Usually, I get by my days in and days out with out having to deal with these issues too much but lately the issues have been piling up and I have been able passive-aggress my way out of having to deal with these issues for weeks and sometimes years at a time but my time has run out—I have hit the wall of responsibility and now I have to figure out how to get some very pressing issues met.

My house is a mess...I have a leaking roof, my ramp needs to be shored up, painted and made ready for the coming winter and there is the electrical issues with the house. One of the big things people with disabilities are encouraged to do is get into some sort of home ownership path. And true there is nothing like homeownership. I love not having a landlord come snooping round the door or coming home from work and have notices on the door of “this is happening” or “that is going to be date with time and date”. I guess the trade off is all the other stuff the landlord is typically responsible for, now, I am responsible for both financially and physically.

This weekend we entertained yet another contractor, who was another bag of bad news. He walked round the house, got on the roof and sat in his truck and wrote up his finding. $10,000 to do the job which needs to be done and that is $10,000.00 if they don't find anything once they strip the previous three roofs off to the flat boards of the roof. The contractor shook his head and said what he could do though—to help us get by was to give us a quote of giving his men a couple of packages of shingles, and roof repair( what ever that is) and having them do the best they can do for six hours and hopefully this will get us by fort another year. This was last Friday and he was going to “try” to get the quote back to us by the end of the day otherwise it would be Monday—so I am figuring we will get something today in the mail. When Dianne heard this we looked at each other and felt we could do something better with the same amount of money regardless of how much the quote might be.

So, how do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. The biggest bite first, having to ask for help, then breaking up all the other 'bites' as to need. Roof, ramp, electrical,downstairs bathroom...one's got to start somewhere. I wish I were rich and could have contractors do an the work but I cannot so I am going to ask relatives and friends for some physical help and see where that goes. So brothers and cousins, good friends beware. If I cold do it myself I would...bite,chew and swallow...

Out

I graduated from high school forty years ago and this year is, of course is the 40 year reunion. Actually this year should have been my 41st year reunion due to the life changing accident I suffered the summer before I was to enter my tenth grade year. This accident mandated that I been in almost constant rehabilitation for the next year of my life forcing me to miss enough school so that I did not graduate with my class. To make matters worse, the accident left me a quadriplegic never walking again let alone climbing stairs. The hight school I should have attended, the school I wanted to attend, the high school I was bred to attend was Boise High school—the high school I did attend however, was Borah Sr. High School. Borah was a relatively new high school in Boise Valley in the 1960's. Borah had been around long enough to have developed a fierce cross town rival ship between the schools.

Borah was where I was destined to attend my the simple fact that the facility was built on one floor where Boise High was build the turn of the century and was built on the roman style campus architecture with multiple buildings with hundreds and hundreds of stairs. The medical an educational professionals in my life all felt Borah High was the best place for me. Needless to say the first year that I was back in school was dreadful. I hardly spoke to any one. The second year I realized that I was cutting my nose off despite my face and I could see friends were everywhere and so—I made friends and eventually finished high school—not with my class and not with my original friends. I believe I have blogged on this before; last summer when I realized Boise High class of 1969 had held their reunion and I had missed it.

So fast forward to this year and the class of 1970 is having their reunion and I keep getting announcements the reunion is almost upon us. I have basically ignored these announcements
but with in the last week one of the reunion organizers has started emailing me asking me if I was going to go to the reunion. The reunion is in Boise and I am in Salt Lake there is no way I am driving five hours for a reunion of good people just not my high school or class. There I said it. I have been struggling with this 'outing' for some time. This struggle probably does not mean a thing to any one but me and a clarification that though, I never was I shall always be a Boise Brave. So I have the sad responsibility of telling old Barry ( the Borah High reunion coordinator) that I do not plan to be in Boise this weekend or next when ever the Borah High reunion is supposed to take place—nothing personal—it just that I was an alien at his school attending only because I had to not because I ever wanted to. I doubt if Barry will understand. Barry was a mighty, mighty Lion, Borah Lion.

Happiness

Restocking fee!!!??? I don't think so. Twenty or thirty dollars just give the product I was not happy with back!! So, I started listening to other options the best being to look over their remaining laptops and find a system which might better fit my need. So Mark, Jasmine and I returned to the the rows of laptops in the quest. Essentially we were looking at Toshibas, even though I had stated I wanted to try something different. I whole countenance was obvious that I wanted Toshiba or similar quality.
My quest did not take long. I found a Toshiba Satellite, with wider screen and the larger keys I needed. The satellite only cost a hundred more then I was paying for the HP so I figured the extra dollars would be well spent. Remember, please it was after 7:00 in the evening, I was tired and a little nervous on how this whole adventure was going to go down. When we went up to the salesperson with my decision he checked his database and indicated that because of school beginning the store was completely out of Toshiba Satellites in the model that I wanted. In fact on further inspection of their product base, all the Toshbas were gone all they had in inventory was what was sitting on the shelves. Of course then asked t he next basic question which was, then could I purchase the floor model and got a resounding “ ohhh, no we could not do that”. This was a front line flunky but he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. So, then he volunteered to check to see what was available in other stores in the Salt lake vicinity and of course there were no Toshiba Satellites available. Then we decided to order in a new system just for me—this should take a couple of days and I should have my new system by the end of the following week. I thought for second knowing I would not be doing a whole lot with the new system over the reaming of the weekend anyway so why not? I could order the unit in and be set to go by the next weekend. I mean, I still had my Satellite with the broken key, at home and it worked fine if one over looked the back space key. There was a quick computer check of the Best Buy system and I knew something was wrong at the little sales person's face. He gulped an adolescent gulp and informed me that the model I wanted was no longer in production an there were no more available anywhere.

By this time I was beginning to draw a small crowd of Best Buy staff—with this new information I once again looked at the system and asked why I could not purchase the floor model especially if the floor model was the only system available. The time was now nine o clock on a Friday evening, Mark A was doing great negotiation with staff and their relentless objections and Jasmine was fine playing with the toy she had gotten with her kids meal—Jasmine just followed us round from piler to post until we finally ran into the store manager who reasonable indicated he did not have a problem selling me the floor model of the last remaining floor model of this specific Toshiba Satellite. The floor grunts just sat there with their mouths open as the manager unplugged the system and removed the sales data from the shelf and walked us up to the check out. The manager further informed me that since the floor model was a floor model the machine would cost me about seventy dollars less since it was not a “new machine”. I would still have the year warranty which came with the system and I elected to not take the “extended coverage” the staff always tried to “up sale”with when ever you by a new item. The manager informed me I could not take computer home with me right because they had to “wipe” the system's memory, it seems Best Buy installs their own software when the machine is on the display stands and the software has to come off. They even offered to have it ready in a half hour but I said I would pick it up the following morning Mark and Jasmine had to get home and I was tired.

I picked they system up the following morning. The system was an upgrade over the HP, the Satellite looked and felt like a better machine because it as a better machine. So I was able to get th whole upgrade or a mere $24.00 over what I ha paid for the HP. And I must admit the difference has made me happy.:-)

Invisble Man

I got the system. I caved and fell back to my tried and true Toshiba Satellite. You, who are my regular readers well remember I left you with the feeling that I had mastered my wants and purchased the HP DV5. A system I did not feel terribly comfortable with but felt I would get used to like a pair of new shoes—really a person has to wear them to break them in. I had made my decision, spent the money I had saved and allocated and such a purchase and I was done. I was ready to move on and start using my new system.

I of course Facebooked my purchase and the feeling I was experiencing with the purchase I thought I sounded OK, just my usual cynical self forcing myself to live with my HP decision. I really felt Iw would eventually warm (most likely sooner then later) and be a happy camper. So yesterday when Mark A came over to mow the lawn he started asked me how I really liked my new system. I continued to hem and haw about the system and then Dianne joined the party and asked to forget about mowing the yard and would he please help his father take back the HP and get what his father really wanted. I had slipped somewhere along the way and mentioned that I had seen some Toshiba systems which were very nice but there was no way I was going to go into debt just to get a better machine. But, the people I love,saw me blink, I wavered and soon Mark A was madly tearing down the HP while I was finding my receipts and such and Dianne was busy pushing the both us towards the front door and out to the van.

Mark A won me over by telling me that with a purchase of this magnitude—I should exhibit joy and happiness. I tried to reason with him that I just did not do that. I was always cynical and almost angry with my purchases, know I was going to get screwed one way or the other. Mark A let me know that was not true and he saw me experience joy when I had purchased my last lap top or even the lathes and what I was exhibiting now was not happiness. So I went with my son and granddaughter to do battle with the sales crew of Best Buy.

I was amazed. I must admit the experience was not without stress but the return went hundreds of time better then I thought the experience would. My excuse was the computer I had purchased, keys were small and I had too much difficulty hitting the keys and I I needed something with bigger keys. The kid in the white shirt and skinny tie shrugged and called the manager over. I was tired and just wanted to get out of there but when the manager informed

me I would have to pay a percentage fee to restock the system I was returning I knew it was going to be a long night. ( Tomorrow “Happiness")

Thanks Stan

The broadcast came out OK. I have know Stan Clawson for some time but have never been able to visit with him the way I did today and it was fun and educational. I am amazed at how much more enjoyable interviewing someone really interesting can be. I am glad the Stan's are out there.

http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/9454297

Broadcast Day

I am slipping up gain and not getting posts in on a daily bases--its not that my life has gotten that dull as much as the business seems to have been ramped up. Today is a broadcast day and today I am interviewing a friend of mine, Stan Clawson, over achiever film director and connoisseur of life. I'll post the interview or a link to the interview when I get the chance...stay tuned

Riptide

I have been watching with interest the past couple of days as Hurricane Earl rolled on shore in North Carolina. These news channels and broadcast showed images of people , even though warnings have been issues, continue to swim and surf in the foaming broth lapping onto the seashore. The commentators indicate there are dangers in that surf namely under toes. Under toes those mysterious monsters which lurk just under the surface water just waiting to grab ones legs and pull them under the water and deposit the swimmer miles away wet and dead. I have written in the past, in this blog, that I spent hours and days of my youth swimming at the “twin bridges” in South Boise. I was always being told to watch out for the under toe it could kill you.

The years passed and the undertows of the Ridenbough canal never grabbed and killed me and I still hear the warnings. I still don’t know exactly what the voices mean but I think I was subjected to something similar a couple of weeks ago at work. I guess the riptide which caused the under toe first washed up on my shore when my boss asked if I was going to attend a reception for the State senator who sounds like he is on the brink of retirement. Without hesitation I said “no”. I do not really like this guy, his politics are his music. There was a silence after my statement when I realized that I had wandered into a politically mined employment minefield. The boss subtly indicated that I might want to re think my decision and how my attendance might look very good to program which is starved for funding as mine is. I made more excuses, real ones of meetings and responsibilities could or should be doing at this exact same time. This held no water, I clearly saw my boss expected me to attend the reception. I gulped and said sure I would be there. As the day of the reception got closer and closer I tried to put the event from my mind hoping against hope that people would forget the reception and I would deftly blow off the event at the last moment and the boss would not notice my absence in the excitement of the event. This thought was dashed when on the day of the senator’s reception the boss asked how we were going to attend and I acknowledged I was going and I was going by public transit but I would be there, with secrete hopes that an act of God would intervene keeping me from the event; nothing big, bus break down, wheelchair failure or bus hijacking.

My only hope now was an Act of God. Turns out the God is a Republican. I made my connections perfectly and was soon at the blind center a State facility with a huge gathering area. There were gimps everywhere as well as agency and private non-profit people who service people with disabilities. I saw my workmates and boss and joined them to hang round eat what was offered then leave as soon as I could hoping that I would not be recognized by too many folks I know in the system. I followed my friends and got in line for the refreshments, a long slow line. It was then I got caught in the undertow, the riptide as this sea of people surged toward the Senator. I smiled, gulped and rolled forward. The senator was set up at the head of the food table. You had to shake hand with the guest before you got you veggies and punch. They had the Senator set up like a Santa picture op at Sears. Thankfully the photo incident was less painful then I anticipated they rushed us up and maneuvered the chair they snapped the image and I was gone. They talked over my head and I did not have to interface, just smile and look lost.

I forgot about the image and was surprised when I got an email of all the images taken at the event and there I was. There is not justice. I was caught in the riptide of humanity—it sucks.

Transit Whale Pods

The local transit authority has gone all mod and is really delivering some effecting transit options for people wanting “to park their cars and ride:” Traxx= the train, they also have Express busses( expensive rides which ‘bullet’ to direct points no stopping or wandering all over the countryside pick up kids for school. The Express whales offer Wi-Fi, lay back seats and probably music, then there are the Commuter buses ( the kind I used and described in Monday’s post). So you have all these transit systems all coming single point destinations called Transit Hubs. I think the hubs are kinda need. People are hanging round waiting , a trnsit whale pulls in and a segment of the folks peal off from the mass enter the whale and it ‘swims’ away. There is a strange, low grade excitement which permeates the area. I kind of liked it—I wished I had taken some images or footage capturing the essence of the transit hub or pod for transit whales.