Category Archives: in the news

a special place in hell for the special people

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So I have this friend who has cerebral palsy which affects his brain in such a way he falls down on occasion. He actually used to refer to himself as the FallGuy because he was known to fall down, especially when forced to negotiate stairs. Years ago, he and I both found ourselves working as high school camp counselors at a small Seventh Day Adventist College in the Napa Valley with lots of rolling hills and lots and lots of stairs all over the campus…everywhere. I’m pretty certain that J thought that he was in Hell except we were counselors for a Christian Church high school camp and how could that possibly be Hell except for the fact that we were surrounded by teenagers who couldn’t find their own toothbrush at a college campus that had absolutely no caffeine or meat because it was a Seventh Day Adventist college campus in a Seventh Day Adventist town and there was no caffeine or meat (or alcohol) to be found anywhere, at least on that campus in that town. Oh, and did I neglect to mention that it was summertime and it was over 100 degrees every freaking day. Perhaps it was pre-Hell. It sure as hell felt like it.

Still J managed in spite of the obvious pain it was for him to get around and try to keep up with the kids we were in charge of. But he did. So I kept my whiny, bitchiness to myself and felt deeply ashamed of myself for wanting, more than anything in the world, a coke…a damn coca-cola! J was climbing a mile of stairs everyday in the 100 degree heat in spite of his obvious physical disability and pain. How could I possibly bitch about the fact that I couldn’t find one damn Diet Coke?  Then we were granted a free afternoon and we jumped into J’s car to find a burger and a coke. I’m sure we both would have loved a beer but this was a church camp and J, at the time, was under 21. Still we had free time and we were on a mission…in his beater car with no ac in the 100+ degree afternoon in the Napa Valley. Thankfully the burger and coca-cola gods were smiling down upon us and we found that which we were searching for…

an In-N-Out in nearby St. Helena!

:::cue the heavenly host of angels that truly wanted us to have caffeine and red meat because they did want that for us, they did:::

The parking lot was packed and there was but one parking spot available…a handicapped spot. J reached over into his glove box and pulled out his totally legit handicapped parking placard and placed it on his dash as he whispered to me, “don’t tell my mom I did this.”

Are you kidding me? I’m getting a diet coke and a burger. I’m good. Wait a minute. J has every right to park in a handicapped space because living with cerebral palsy he is indeed handicapped. He is the Fall Guy! But his mom raised him differently. Yes CP mangled his limbs in such a way that walking was painful and sometimes impossible. Yes he did fall down a lot as a child, as a teen, as a young man. Whatever! She raised him to not rely on that which limited him rather to rely on that which freed him…his brilliant mind, his wit, his story-telling, his incredible strength that gave him the ability to try to keep up to those high school aged kids we were in charge of as he tried to navigate all those freaking stairs at that Seventh Day Adventist college in the Napa Valley.

Seriously, my respect and admiration for J and his amazing mom (who is also a friend) doubled, tripled and even quadrupled that day. This was a man of integrity…raised by a women of integrity. They both could very well rest on that which twisted and tortured J’s body into something that was a little to the left of what is “normal”. But they did not. At least J’s mom did not and raised J to not. Yes he did from time to time fall back on the “privilege” oif being physically limited…handicapped. He had the handicap placard which he rarely used then and now. He has “enjoyed” the privilege of navigating Disneyland and Great America and Magic Mountain in a wheelchair and he has been known to include friends and family who have been with him to enjoy the privilege of handicap with him.

J is an amazing young man. J has cerebral palsy which has twisted and distorted his limbs in such a way that walking, much less standing is painful and sometimes nearly impossible. He might not always rely on this privilege that is being handicapped but when he does need it, it is there for him and he will use it.

So thinking about J, thinking about the amazing mom who raised him, thinking of dear friends who are raising children who are living with their own disabilities you wonder what I might think of rich Manhattan moms who hire handicapped tour guided so their kids can cut lines at Disney World or what I might think about airports in the US that are dealing with bogus requests for wheelchair assistance to enjoy the privilege of jumping security lines and early boarding access ahead of everyone else or those who use their sister’s or mother’s or auntie’s disabled parking placards so they can avoid parking fees or access to convenient parking without the disabled person with them.

Well…

all I can say is welcome! Welcome to your very own special place in hell! You so deserve it! You might not be enjoying it at this very moment…then again given recent news reports you are likely in the thick of it. Still you might not be so privileged to be reaping the rewards that you so richly deserve, but trust me, you will. You most definitely will. Lucky, lucky you!

 

discovering why

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Picking up Jodie from her job teaching dance to under-privileged kids for Give Every Child A Chance I found myself delayed thanks to an unexpected traffic delay…chickens.

Chickens?

Yes, chickens stopping traffic on French Camp Road.

Sorry, I’m late picking you up.

That’s okay, Mom.

There was traffic.

Traffic?

Yes, traffic. Chickens were crossing French Camp Road.

Chickens?

Yes, chickens. At least I now know for sure why the chickens were crossing the road.

Why?

To get to the other side, of course.

And I wonder sometimes why I annoy her. I do. I really do.

Hopefully those chickens are safe from the pack of wild dogs that are attacking livestock in the farming community of French Camp.

overheard under the Big Top #419

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Daniel: I think I will FaceTime with Zoë.

And so he did. As you can see, she is looking (and feeling) so much better after her I’m-going-to-stress-and-worry-the-shit-out-of-my-mom-and-try-to-kill-my-guardian-angel-in-the-process mishap. She is so lucky she lives down in LA where I can’t my hands on her. Just saying.

But it was good to see her smiling face and hear both Daniel and her laugh. Happy, happy music that makes my heart smile, especially after the messed up, exhausting week of nothing but crazy messed up-ness we all have endured. It was good to listen to the laughter of your children.

“Want me to show you my butt?”

Wait!

What?

No!

“You may NOT show your sister your butt on FaceTime!“

Add that to the things-my-mother-never-told-me-I-would-have-to-say-as-a-mother-someday. Then again, she never really told me much of anything about being a mother.

Oh well.

Thankfully, no butts were exposed on FaceTime. But there was more laughter and secrets shared and the discovery that it is the same time in Los Angeles as it is in Manteca.

Who knew?

“You press ‘End’.”

No, you press ‘End’.”

“No! You!”

More laughter and finally they said goodbye and ended their FaceTime.

I’m not sure who pressed “End” first.

miles

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This last weekend I hit a milestone. I have ran more than 3,000 miles in the last (almost) four years. 3,000 miles! I know! That’s like running coast to coast. I blame Kristen, Bill and Kari…especially Kari! Just kidding! Actually I am quite grateful to all of them for the friendship, the inspiration, the support and the whining…them putting up with MY whining. We have logged many miles together and apart but we were always connected and remain so. Running with them virtually and together broadened my circle of friends with Stephanie, Erica, Liz, Beth, Christina, Christine, Kale and so many more awesome people I’m sure I’m forgetting…go ahead and yell at me for forgetting, mmm-kay? But the circle grew even larger as I connected with local folks running like crazy…Linda, Row, Mac, Mike, Erika and Layla. I even reconnected with a high school classmate who I now count as a very, very dear friend thanks to running. Miles and miles of running together and not together connects us all in a way that one can not imagine unless they too are running. Perhaps it’s all those happy, happy endorphins…or maybe we are just a little bit crazy like non-running folk pronounce us to be. Who knows? But we are a close knit community. When one falls or is injured or must stop running we feel their pain and frustration. When one of us PRs we celebrate their amazing feat. We are a close-knit family thanks to all the miles we have all covered.

So when the bombs went off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon we were pained. No, we were struck down, maimed even. Many of us knew people running in Boston…and were following their run in a creepy-cool kind of way thanks to social media and electronic timing chips and we immediately checked to see where were they on the course. We then checked on our running friends who live in Boston but were not running. Sure, Boston is big city but Patriots’ Day and the Boston Marathon are a big, fat deal in their hometown. It’s a day to play and to celebrate. A huge sigh of relief was breathed knowing everyone we knew was okay. Still we felt the pain being broadcast for hours on end on Monday. Once again our country was attacked on a beautiful day by clearly someone or someones who truly have nothing but hate, mayhem and destruction on their agenda. The loss of life was nothing like 9-11…THANK GOD! Still, a life is a life and we can’t help but feel pain for the families of those three beautiful souls. As runners, we looked to who ended up being the victims that day…runners thisclose to the finish line, spectators cheering them on and looking for their own people to cross. Many of these innocents were family of runners- parents, husbands, wives, children, grandchildren, some were likely to be runners too, runners who just crossed the finish line and looking back for a friend who was still on the course somewhere or runners who were not running that day but were there to cheer on other runners…because we runners like to do that when we can’t run. And some were just people, random strangers there to cheer on these crazy running people…perhaps at the request of a friend 3,000 miles away from the finish line. They were all joined in the community of running, celebrating, enjoying a beautiful day together. And in an instant it was all blown up…literally. So many were injured, horribly disfigured for god only knows what evil reason. And the running community grieved perhaps as much as Boston has been. Our family was viciously attacked. How could we not grieve?

You see, the thing about us runners is that we are runners. We might not have qualified this year. We may have qualified but did not run. We may have been injured and unable to go. We may have never qualified (and given my granny pace, likely never will). But we are runners and Monday and every day since Monday, our hearts have been in Boston.

And since Monday, this family whom I belong to has united even more tightly. We are determined to reach out and love Boston, to share, to help, to give, to show our solidarity wearing our tech shirts from races past all week long and to run and keep on running…running more and more miles…all for Boston. And as we run, we are healing because those endorphins are epic stuff, yo!

The logistics of races will likely never be the same thanks to the evil that tried to destroy the Boston Marathon, but race we will continue to do. More miles. You just can not stop us from running more miles.

Just as President Obama predicted today I know for sure that “this time next year on the third Monday in April, the world will return to this great American city to run harder than ever and to cheer even louder for the 118th Boston Marathon.

Bet on it.”

baaa-baaa

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Like so many…tens and tens of thousands and ultimately millions of many…I joined the move to turn Facebook red. Slactiviism I am not a fan of, that is true. In memory of Susan Niebur, I avoid the cutesy what color is my bra or where is my purse memes for breast cancer awareness because I am already aware and what I really want is a cure dammit, especially for a dear, dear friend who was just recently diagnosed. I didn’t care much for the cartoon characters meme that was supposed to stop child abuse either. But this week I did go red as did the the majority of my Facebook friends.

What a beautiful sight it was to see my timeline the past couple of days.

And might I say that I have some creative friends? I do!

As the Supreme Court prepared to hear arguments that will decide the fate of Proposition 8 and the Defense Of Marriage Act this week, I noticed a thoughtful post from a dear friend on his Facebook timeline urging his friends to join him and change our profile pictures with a red-hued Human Rights Coalition logo in support of him, his partner, friends and family alike all who desire the same basic right that I get to enjoy…getting married. Another friend, who just the week before lamented on his Facebook page the ridiculousness of filing his and his husband’s taxes: jointly for their State which recognized them as a lawfully wedded couple and separately for their Federal because our Federal government does not recognize them as a married couple, also asked his friends to join him and his husband in calling for marriage equality for all…gay or straight. I dearly love these two friends. How could I not come along side them and support them? The marriages of my friends who just so happen to be gay are just as valid and special as is my marriage. I stand beside them asking for them to have the same right to be able to marry their special someone and enjoy the benefits (and frustrations) of all other married people.

As Tuesday turned into Wednesday and even today, my timeline became red…very red. People I never would have imagined took a stand to support marriage equality for us all here in the United States.I love this! Even better, there was only one…ONE…one negative post that showed up in my timeline where a friend exhorted us all to not be sheep.

Well BAAAAAAAA!!!!!

In all seriousness, this was a social movement of support that could not be ignored. It was a movement that celebrated hugely social change whose time has come…actually whose time should have been here already. This meme started mostly thoughtful dialogues over the idea of inclusion and consideration of the arguments for and against marriage. Arguments like marriage is supposed to be just for a man and a woman because we should be procreating…um, I am definitely in trouble here since god has for sure closed my womb. The red avatar movement offered overwhelming support to our friends, families and associates who are lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender. I can only imagine how it was for them to see the red spread all over their own timelines…especially when dear, old church ladies and grumpy old right-wing men they know joined in. This was a movement so full of positive impact that we can’t help but celebrate its positive impact. We should celebrate it.

So we are sheep?

Okay, fine. We are sheep herded together and moving together towards something good. Something better. The strays can go ahead and get stuck in the brambles, or worse.