Hey, guys! I’ve been feeling especially proud this week and determined – determined to speak up and make a difference. I recently watched the disability history documentary called Crip Camp (of which my review is coming soon!) and it reminded me of how much beauty and pride there is to be found in being disabled. I used to be ashamed of my disability, which isn’t surprising – it’s almost an inevitable feeling if you grow up alongside modern media and don’t encounter many other disabled people in your life. There are so many things society says that we should be ashamed of, including simply being who we are.
Here is a list of five things I used to be ashamed of due to my disability and how I’ve learnt to be proud of them and own them instead:
Ahhh…getting old. We are all getting old and some of us faster than others…ha ha ha! Today’s little blog contains a collection of hilarious little quips/thoughts that I think all of us would enjoy as we continue our journey through this life.
Don’t be worried about your smartphone or TV spying on you. Your vacuum cleaner has been collecting dirt on you for years.
If you can’t think of a word say “I forgot the English word for it.” That way people will think you’re bilingual instead of an idiot.
I’m at a place in my life where errands are starting to count as going out.
I’m getting tired of being part of a major historical event.
I don’t always go the extra mile, but when I do it’s because I missed my exit.
Ate salad for dinner. Mostly croutons and tomatoes. Really just…
I’m not a soap opera watcher. Chris watches a couple of them, but she’s not addicted. A few minutes ago, I was sitting in the living room while a popular soap opera was being aired on TV. There was the quintessential moaning and griping about something. You know, the visual version of the blues. I kid you not, the show was on for thirty minutes, including commercials, and I didn’t see a smile on anybody’s face the whole time. I think we’re coming off one of the worst years the world has ever experienced. As of this writing, almost three and a half million people (globally) have died from the coronavirus. In the United States, people are finally beginning to see a bright shiny light at the end of a dark tunnel, which had walls lined with shards of glass. So, why in the world would anybody want to watch a soap opera?
The coronavirus has and continues to have its way with us. The situation in India is bleak. When I watch news footage of people being cremated in the open and the looks of hopelessness on the faces of the Indian people, the question at the end of the last paragraph rushes back; why in the world would anybody want to watch a soap opera?
The coronavirus has been a force that has thrown all the occupants of this tiny little blue ball for a loop; however, we seem to feel the need to help it as it grimily reaps. Instances of violence against Asians makes no sense. Cases of police officers who can’t wrap their head around the idea that their job is to serve and protect everyone continue to be on display every time an unarmed person is shot. People, mostly civilians, are losing their lives in a mini war between Israel and Hamas. While the coronavirus continues to have it way in some parts of the world, the old standby ailments: cancer diabetes, heart disease and a host of their friends continue to do as they’ve always done, claim lives indiscriminately.
I just read an article in the paper about the Texas legislature passing and forwarding to the governor a bill that would remove any requirement for licensure to own a gun in the state of Texas. Throughout the United States, state houses have been drafting legislation that restricts the opportunity for bountiful life and liberty of certain people: restrictive voting procedures; removal of certain healthcare provisions for transgender youth; limiting the numbers of people who can gather in peaceful protests. These defensive moves to combat what many little-minded people see as attacks on the culture they cherish, are really assaults on the cultural principles that should remain in place to move us forward. One major principle is live and let live. If my other brothers and sisters are pursuing life and liberty, without infringing on my opportunity to do the same, shouldn’t governmental bodies stay out of the business of trying to legislate morals? Shouldn’t they focus more on positivity, digging deep to develop ways to bring us together versus separating us into opposing camps?
No. I don’t want to watch any soap operas. I need at least 300ccs of positivity right about now. What about you?
On a recent morning, I stepped outside my garage with a cup of coffee in hand. I do this sometimes when the weather is good. It adds to my early morning ritual to start me off on a good day. My experience was ruined when I noticed a piece of trash, in the street, in front of my house. Some miscreant had deposited their McDonalds bag right in front of my house. It contained wrappings for some sort of fast-food delicacy neatly enclosed. In case you might by wondering what type of neighborhood I live in. I live in a middle-class neighborhood where folks take pride in their property. However, the location doesn’t matter. There is too much trash resting on the side of roads in my city, and as a matter of fact my state. Arkansas is known as the natural state, because of all the natural beauty it has; however, it also has too many trashy people.
Where am I going with this? No where in particular. Remember I asked you if I could vent about a few things. Any further reading will be at your own risk.
It bothers me when I see posts from atheist on social media railing against Christianity. I respect their right to say whatever they wish, but why spend so much time pointing out the gullibility of people who believe in a superior being who created all that we can and cannot see. I’ve never posted anything derogatory about atheists or agnostics.
It bothers me that politicians don’t represent all the people in their district. The game seems to be to find your base quickly and play to them, disregard everyone else.
It bothers me that some people are quick to tell me how I should acknowledge and worship my God. The last I heard is that if one believes in God, they should try to cultivate a personal relationship. If my relationship is personal, where does anyone get off trying to tell me how it should be.
It bothers me that obsolescence is built into far too many products that we depend on to help us in our daily lives. I just installed a brand-new garbage disposal in our kitchen. I installed the last one about seven year ago. Our house is only fourteen years old.
It bothers me that some businesses don’t ensure that their employees provide good service. Not too long ago, I got an oil change on my car. A short time later, I noticed oil leaking in my driveway. I took my car to another place for service. They had to replace the oil, because the place that had done the oil change before hadn’t put the drain plug back in correctly.
It bothers me that people knock on my door around dinner time, trying to sell me things I don’t want. Our neighborhood association requests that solicitors register with them before meandering through the neighborhood peddling their snake oil. The association has been closed for well over an hour by the time these some of these folks come knocking.
It bothers me that some drivers disregard the stop sign when entering a main road, as I’m approaching the intersection on my bicycle. To keep from being maimed or killed, I must be on high alert whenever I’m riding my bicycle.
I guess I could go on; however, I’m sure you get the point. The rose garden of life is littered with bothersome pests that seemingly work overtime to interrupt all the peace and tranquility God wants you to enjoy. Through it all, I’m still blessed.
Mother’s Day is this coming Sunday, May 12. As I found myself thinking about my mother, who moved on to be with her Lord and Savior July 5 of last year, I went looking for a note I wrote to her back in May 2015. Actually, the note was more to me, since she was well on her way into the deepest, darkest room Alzheimer’s could design for her. At the time I wrote this note, I was spending some precious time with her, giving my sister, the primary caretaker a much needed break.
This note, for some reason, has much more meaning for me now than when I wrote it. I hope you can appreciate the state I was experiencing mentally and emotionally at the time. Here it is:
Momma, as I look at you, I see a foggy image of what you were. At 84, you still possess…
It’s the first Saturday in May 2021. This time last year, people were a lot more afraid than they are this year. The coronavirus had just begun to tighten its grip on the world. Everyone seemed woefully ignorant about the virus, even the scientists. Plans we had made for the year had been cancelled earlier. We were going to top everything off with a Christmas family gathering here in Little Rock. We had it in Sierra Vista, Arizona for Christmas 2019, and everyone had a grand ole time. We were quick to cancel the gathering for 2020. Convincing family to not have it wasn’t a problem.
Some promotions were started a few weeks ago about something called 501 Day in Arkansas. 501 is the aera code for central Arkansas, which includes the capital city of Little Rock, the largest city in the state. Celebrate 501 Day with events, deals in Central Arkansas (arkansasonline.com) Obviously, I didn’t pay much attention to the promotions for 501 Day, because my little drive around the downtown area of Little Rock surprised me. This little trek was impromptu. I had gone down to the church, which is located on the southern edge of downtown, to pick up elements used in observance of the Lord’s supper (Eucharist for Catholics). We observe this most sacred event every first Sunday. Since we’ve not been congregating in the church building since March 15 of last year, all of our services are held on three social media platforms: YouTube, Facebook and our church’s website. Well, we can’t get the elements for the observance virtually, thus we pick them up the Saturday before the first Sunday.
There were people around and about downtown. The River Market District was abuzz. I think the farmer’s market was a big contributing factor there. South Main Street, aka, SOMA, where regentrification to some degree has taken hold in recent years had streets occupied a little more than usual. This time last year, it seemed like a ghost town. I guess the introduction of the vaccines in the last few months and the noticeable decrease in the number of coronavirus cases have given people, what I call, a false sense of security. I didn’t take very many pictures to include in this blog, an omission I regretted later, but believe me folks were out.
As I drove through Mainstreet in Little Rock, I decided to cross the Mainstreet Bridge, which spans the Arkansas River. The river separates Little Rock from North Little Rock. North Little Rock is a separate municipality. I’ve always loved sitting on a bench or taking a stroll along the riverbank, or is it a park, in North Little Rock. You can get some beautiful views of Little Rock from vantage points on the north side. The river was flowing powerfully due to rain a few days earlier. We get flow from the west, and it had rained quite a bit in Oklahoma.
Folks on the northside were out in sizeable numbers, too. Bicyclists on the pave trail along the river in North Little were zipping by me, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves. I decided to snap a few shots of Little Rock from the north side. I’ve included them here.
I’m sorry this seems to be a bit rambling; however, I’m writing it as it came. I was rambling about on a beautiful Saturday morning, watching people getting out of the house.