Blindness – Page 3 – The Conservative Blind Guy

Little ears! Big ears! Sensitive ears!

The following is a guest editorial from the Denver Post from 2011. I heard local conservative commentator Mike Rosen read it on his radio program and wrote an Email in response. I will paste the editorial first, followed by my response.

I find it darkly ironic, since I now endure Omaha’s mass transit system. Yet, I would not change a word I wrote.

Guest Commentary: A car-free life in Denver
By
Special to The Denver Post
June 7, 2011 at 3:17 pm

We are raised on cars. For many Americans, the idea of riding a public bus or train seems foreign and inconvenient. Car owners who have no experience with
public transportation may believe a car is always the necessary method to get from here to there.

Two years ago, I moved to Denver from Chicago, well practiced in public transportation and committed to life without a car. To me, there is independence
in the car-free lifestyle. It is freedom from hefty car payments and dealings with insurance companies. It is the freedom to walk any way I want down one-way
streets, to cut through fields of untouched snow on the way to the store, to observe the moving city around me without worrying if I am holding up traffic
or about to cause an accident.

It is the opportunity to get more exercise and support a cleaner environment.

The year after college, I lived in a suburb of Seoul, South Korea, where public transportation was not just abundant, it also was efficient. Digital postings
at stops and stations told me exactly when the next bus or train would arrive. (They arrived often and crowded.)

Few of my peers owned cars in Chicago. We all took the “L” or bus to work or play — always a faster and cheaper alternative to driving.

So when I moved to Denver, I searched for an urban neighborhood that had all necessary conveniences within walking or busing distance. I settled on Uptown,
where, unlike other neighborhoods, I could walk to the grocery store, the movie theater, restaurants, cafes, shops, and the bus stop.

In Denver, when I tell people I don’t have a car, I get varied reactions of bewilderment: “You live without a car?” “Isn’t it dangerous?” “Isn’t it inconvenient?”
“Doesn’t it take longer?”

To these questions, I ask: Have you experienced the pleasure of reading a novel all the way to work? Do you know the convenience of finishing work on the
commute home? Do you know the peace of mind in not worrying about ice and snow? Have you watched the world move from day to night during the 5 o’clock
rush while someone else stresses about traffic?

This freedom, however, comes at a cost. Without a car in Denver, it takes longer to go just about anywhere. It takes more planning and more patience. The
appeal of owning a car is not lost on me, especially in Colorado, where cars are necessary for trips to the mountains and Sunday rides in the foothills.
Like most American cities, Denver’s adequate but inefficient public transit system will never reach its full potential without more citizens who use it.
Denver could lead the country in greener, community-oriented practices that encourage lifestyles where we walk, ride and bus more often.

Denverites, in general, love the environment, are committed to healthy lifestyles and will do anything to be outside. So why does it seem like the number
of Denverites who support those ideals is disproportionate to the number who use public transportation?

Denver needs improvements: safer bike routes, more comprehensive light rail, more bus users so routes run more frequently and at a lower cost. The city
needs more neighborhoods like Uptown, whose conception begins with, “How can we make this neighborhood as self-sustained as possible?”

The other day, when I got on the No. 10 bus on the way to the Highlands, I found it full of middle-schoolers on a field trip. For many, it must have been
their first experience on a bus. I applaud their teachers for exposing them to public transportation. On this trip, the kids no doubt learned where to
catch the bus, how to pay their fair and how to act.

We may be raised on cars, but we can learn to move in other ways. The first step, truly, is to try.

Elizabeth Costello of Denver is a writer at Children’s Hospital Colorado in Aurora.

June 9, 2011

Dear Mike:

I listened to your program today on public transit with great interest. I am a blind guy who relies on public transit on a daily basis. I’m currently unemployed, though I recently worked as a cashier at Lowrey Airforce Base; a job I could not have done without the aid of RTD. I’m also a rarity, a blind man who is a conservative. I’m stating this directly so you won’t misunderstand the intent of my message.

Elizabeth Costello’s guest editorial seems to serve RTD very well. It’s full of the same puffy propaganda that I read every day, courtesy of RTD’s Twitter feed. If Ms. Costello is as fulfilled as she claims to be, living life without a car and at the whims of RTD, then I am truly happy for her. More to the point, I’m amazed by her.

Most of us who use RTD services do it, not because of any moral obligation or intrinsic desire. Quite the opposite. We do it because we are compelled to avail ourselves of bus and light rail to get where we need to go.

I relocated to Denver four years ago from Lincoln, Nebraska, and RTD is a big step up from the pathetic transit system I was forced to endure there. RTD is a good bus system with good hours and adequate coverage of the Denver area. Having said that, if I could wave a magic wand and restore my ability to drive a car, I would do so in a heartbeat. I hasten to add that I’m not whining about my blindness. I live a comfortable life. I’m merely acknowledging that a car is a far more convenient mode of transportation than is RTD.

During your program, you stated a number of sound objections to public transit in favor of the automobile. The most persuasive argument for me was the time factor. This past Memorial Day, some friends and I decided to visit a local restaurant for lunch. If we were to have hired a driver to take us, the ride from my front door to the restaurant would’ve taken approximately 10 to 15 minutes. Since my friends and I are all blind, we naturally took the bus. From the time I walked out my front door to the time we arrived at the restaurant, an hour and five minutes had elapsed. This was due to a phenomenon I term, The Domino Effect.

An RTD route often involves one or a series of transfers from one bus to another, or from bus to light rail and back, in order to reach one’s final destination. If one of those buses happens to be even a minute or two late, it can cause a disruption that can result in the collapse of the traveler’s intended schedule. In our case, the driver of the originating bus was a few minutes late. The connection we needed to make was tight, so I asked him to radio ahead and ask the driver of our connecting bus to wait until we got to our first stop. I was within my rights as an RTD passenger to request this as it was in compliance with RTD policy. However, the driver either couldn’t or wouldn’t make the call. I’m not entirely certain as to his reason, since the driver’s thick accent made it virtually impossible to discern what he was saying. Whatever the explanation, we missed our transfer and had to stand at the bus stop an additional half-hour and wait for the next bus to arrive. I am hard pressed to think of a comparable inconvenience we would’ve faced had we been driving a car.

I mentioned previously that I used to work at Lowrey Airforce Base and that I used RTD to get to and from work. The commute home to Littleton usually took approximately an hour and 40 minutes. Near the end of my employment, I hired a driver to come pick me up after work and take me directly home. It cost more money, but it cut my travel time by over half. The cash I spent was well worth the extra hour I got to spend at home unwinding from the day.

As a regular RTD passenger going on four years, I had to chuckle at some of Ms. Costello’s assertions. She talks of happily trudging through snowy fields to get to the store. Such a scenario would constitute an annoyance for me at best and a nightmare at worst. Snow travel is often difficult for blind people and usually results in wet clothes, cold feet and in some cases, bruises or even broken bones. Moreover, I don’t know a single sighted person who would enjoy such an activity when they could more easily drive to the store.

The biggest laugh I got from her commentary came when she wrote about a joyful trip on the number 10 bus with a group of middle school students. I’ve taken many a long and arduous voyage with children of middle and high school age. I’m not a puritan by any stretch of the imagination, but I wouldn’t perform a sex act on my worst enemy with the mouths of any of those juvenile brats. The cacophony of yelling, swearing, extraneous cell phone conversations and blaring electronic devices results in stress that is only made worse by passive drivers who refuse to enforce RTD’s policies of civility and low music volume by all bus passengers.

Furthermore, if I could get back all the time I’ve wasted waiting on buses and light rails in my life, you and I could take three back-to-back cruises together. By the conclusion, maybe you will have broken down “A Conflict of Visions,” to a comprehensible level for me.

I’m not writing this to disparage RTD. They have a job to do and they do it fairly well. But Ms. Costello’s premise is that a car-free lifestyle is what she prefers and that more people should join her in this mentality. This is utter nonsense.

Recently, the National Federation of the Blind unveiled a car that could be operated independently by a blind driver. This was just a test run and I don’t suggest that a car will solve all of our problems, but if such a thing becomes a mainstream reality, I will kick, beat and claw my way to the front of the line to buy one in order that my life may become more convenient. You’ll be my first stop, Mike. We’ll go out and lift a jar or two and you can begin your translation of Thomas Sowell for me. Until that happy day arrives, thanks for taking the time to read this.

Yours truly,

Ryan Osentowski

That was written in June of 2011, three years before I took a job in Boulder that required me to spend over four hours a day commuting to and from work via RTD. It was also three years before ridesharing services like Lyft and Uber became a reality in my life. With that experience in mind, plus the downgrade to Omaha’s meager bus system, let me add a few additional thoughts to Ms. Costello’s assertions.

She says, “Have you experienced the pleasure of reading a novel all the way to work?”

A lot of people read novels while driving a car. Ever hear of audio books?

She asks, “Do you know the convenience of finishing work on the
commute home?”

Nope. I leave work at work. Based on some of the cell phone conversations I heard from my fellow RTD passengers, I wish they would have as well.

She further asks, “Do you know the peace of mind in not worrying about ice and snow?”

Umm, I presume you mean while riding the bus? I spent many a harrowing walk to and from the bus stop during Denver’s cold winter season worrying about ice and snow. And we won’t even talk about Nebraska’s brutal winter season. I nearly got killed more than once while worrying about ice and snow.

She says, “Have you watched the world move from day to night during the 5 o’clock
rush while someone else stresses about traffic?”

Yes, the buses in Denver were much more crowded during peak hours. However, if traffic or weather were severe, the passengers did not simply chill out and ignore it. The collective stress level would go up exponentially if we were in a traffic jam or an ice storm. See my above remarks about The Domino Effect for clarification.

IN closing, it’s been seven years since I wrote that Email to Mike Rosen. I miss Denver. I miss RTD. I miss Mike. Sorry, Elizabeth, but I still want a car.

Why I am a Federationist

From the Braille Monitor:

Why I Am a Federationist: Both Ends of the Spectrum

by Ryan Osentowski

From the Editor: The following speech was delivered at the 2002 convention of the NFB of Nebraska. Ryan is now a junior philosophy major and is
still a Federation leader: secretary of the Nebraska affiliate, first vice president of the Lincoln Chapter, and NFB-NEWSLINE� coordinator for
Nebraska. I uncovered this document the other day and remembered why I had thought it would be a fine addition to the Braille Monitor sometime. This
issue seemed to need some leavening of hope and inspiration. So here it is:

In considering why I am a Federationist, my train of thought began with the obvious reasons. The National Federation of the Blind is the largest,
most powerful movement of the blind in the country. We’re doing more for the blind than any other consumer organization for and of the blind. We’ve
developed NFB-NEWSLINE, America’s Jobline, and the Kernel Books. We have built the National Center for the Blind in Baltimore; training centers
in Colorado, Minnesota, and Louisiana; and now the NFB Jernigan Institute. We work every year to pass legislation that benefits the blind at the
local, state, and federal levels, and we come together annually for our national convention so that we can be heard en masse. Then we have the Braille
Monitor, divisions of all types, and a plethora of historically important speeches by such greats as Jacobus tenBroek, Kenneth Jernigan, and President
Maurer.

I decided that the best thing for me to do would be to describe my ascent to the Federation and throw those facts in along the way so I could demonstrate
how great the NFB is. Then I realized that most of the people in this room already knew about those things. Those who don’t will come to know about
them during the course of this convention. I decided that my speech might seem redundant and I would have to throw in some jokes just to keep the
crowd awake.

Then my mind turned to more personal reflections. I thought I would talk about what I have benefited from in the Federation. But as I thought about
that, one of the many voices in my head broke free of the chaos and said to me, “Easy there, Ryan O. You don’t want to come off looking too selfish.”
I agreed with Mr. Voice, knowing that I shouldn’t take this opportunity to stand before a convention audience and look like a golddigger. Yet for
some reason the word “selfish” stuck in my head, and I began to ponder the concept of selfishness. What is it, and what does it truly mean? So
I ran with the idea of selfishness.

When we think of selfishness, we view it negatively. We think of selfish people as putting themselves first, people who are egocentric, self-centered,
and greedy. Those traits are often present, but is that all there is to the picture? What would happen if none of us ever acted selfishly? The
chances are that our lives would go nowhere. When Jacobus tenBroek founded the National Federation of the Blind in 1940, what were his motives?
Were they entirely selfless? Probably not. He surely wanted a better life for himself. He would not have been content to spend his days as a blind
man begging for food and money just to live. He wanted more than that.

When Kenneth Jernigan became involved in the Federation, was he doing it just because he had nothing better to do with his time? Not very likely!
He did it because he wanted to improve the quality of his life. He believed that there was more to life than making furniture at home to help support
his family. When our own state president, Carlos Servan, was blinded in a military accident in his home country of Peru, he could have stayed home
and become a wine taster. But he wanted more for himself as a blind person, so he came to America and achieved it. Didn’t these men do what they
did for selfish motives? Wasn’t a great deal of self-interest and self-preservation involved? Of course!

When I was growing up in my hometown of Kearney, my parents pushed me to strive to be better than average. They wanted me to be happy and successful
in life. Were they wrong to teach me these things? I firmly believe that my parents are a big part of the reason I am standing before you today.
They taught me to some degree to be selfish in my life.

Let me expand that idea. Many of us have selfish motives for being part of the Federation; let’s admit that. We all love socializing with our friends,
throwing parties at conventions, traveling to places like Washington, D.C., and rubbing elbows with the folks on Capitol Hill. Many of us get a
kick out of those things, and nothing is wrong with that. Yet something beneath those superficial desires also drives us. We all want better lives
for ourselves as blind people. We all want to be employed and work at a decent job, making decent money. Many of us want to go to school and acquire
a quality education. We all want to live in a world where our dignity as blind people will be protected from humiliation and discrimination.

Isn’t it selfish to want these things for ourselves? Yet they are positive, healthy things to strive for in our lives. How would it be if we all
just wanted to sit home with no job, no education, and no goals in life, indulging in simple, everyday pleasures? I say that this would be selfish,
but not nearly selfish enough to be constructive.

If we were an organization of people focused only on ourselves, we wouldn’t get very far. What about the other end of the spectrum? What about
selflessness? We all know what that term means, don’t we? A selfless person is someone who does for others or puts others ahead of him- or herself.
Isn’t that also a large part of what our movement is about? I mentioned Dr. tenBroek and Dr. Jernigan earlier and the fact that they were probably
fueled by selfish motives when they founded and built the National Federation of the Blind. Yet it only makes sense that a large part of their
motives were selfless. They were wise enough to realize that life does not exist in a vacuum and that their actions would affect many others. Sure,
they wanted a better quality of life for themselves, but they also wanted a fuller, richer quality of life for all blind people.

If you doubt that, just look at history. Dr. tenBroek endured a civil war within his own organization and stepped down as president for a time.
Yet he stayed. Dr. Jernigan endured public abuse from his enemies and the media during several years as NFB president in Iowa, but he kept on fighting
for the blind. Could you continue in a job where you were assaulted every day? Would you want to continue when everything from your character to
your personal life was attacked from every angle? Wouldn’t any self-absorbed man say, “Enough! I’ve had it! You go your way and I’ll go mine, and
that’s the end of it. Starting right now, I’m looking out for number one!” If you can say no to that, than you are a stronger person than I. Most
people would walk away, but these men didn’t. They stayed because they realized that the welfare of the blind was more important than their own self-interest.

That spirit of selflessness is still with us today. I recently attended a leadership seminar in Baltimore, and Dr. Maurer told us about his upcoming
schedule. He read his calendar to us, and we all noticed that he didn’t have a free weekend for at least three solid months. Can you imagine working
a full-time job with no free weekends? That would be tough on us and our families, wouldn’t it? Yet he does it without complaint because he realizes
that it is necessary for him to work tirelessly for our cause.

Our movement is so successful because men like President Maurer, Dr. tenBroek, and Dr. Jernigan were selfish enough to want more for themselves,
but selfless enough to want and work for it for others as well. As it is with so many things, a healthy balance must exist between the two. If
we leaned too far in either direction, our efforts would stall, and we would become bogged down.

The selfish and selfless motives of our past great leaders are still remembered today through many of our actions in the Federation. Take, for
example, our scholarship program. We’re giving money to students so that they can improve themselves, thereby improving the quality of their lives.
We also do it in the hope that they will come back to us and give the Federation the time, effort, and love a movement like ours requires of many.

America’s Jobline is a service for people to use to gain employment so that they can achieve the same result. When more blind people find jobs,
it makes us all stronger. Those training centers I mentioned earlier are there solely to teach blind people to do for themselves, but they also
help more blind people to become independent and demonstrate a more positive image of blindness that will benefit all of us.

I could go on, but I think you understand. The Federation continues to teach blind people to strive to do better for themselves. We have our own
motives that are both selfish and selfless. Whatever our members’ personal motives are, we have plenty of altruism to go around. Thousands of people
dedicate their time, energy, and loyalty to this organization, and they don’t receive monetary rewards for it. The rewards are intrinsic, knowing
that we are building a better life for blind people in our country. People join together each year to help raise funds, spread our positive message
about blindness, take minutes, balance the treasury checkbook, lobby for new and better legislation, spend time on the phone with newly blind people,
bring people to chapter meetings, chair committees, and do countless other things that benefit our organization. They do these things because they
are selfless.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am a Federationist. I’ve gained a great deal personally during my time here. I’ve had a lot of fun, but I’ve
also had the chance to grow as a blind person. My confidence has increased, and my attitudes about blindness have improved. My goals for myself
have expanded. Yet while I have taken my share of what the Federation has to offer, I would be remiss if I didn’t realize that I must give back
as well. When the day arrives that all blind people can work in an atmosphere of fairness and equality; when everyone, blind and sighted alike, comes
to know and respect our philosophy about blindness; when people are not ruled by their fear and ignorance of blindness, my time as an NFB volunteer
will be over. Until that day comes, I will stand proudly upon the barricades with my blind brothers and sisters, helping to make our positive vision
of the future come true.

The Country of the Sighted

“In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.”
H. G. Wells

The following Email exchange occurred six years ago on the NFB-Talk discussion listserve. Said exchange resulted in the list administrator placing me on “moderated” status. This made me so angry that I unsubscribed from the list in a huff. Later, I reconsidered joining after I had cooled off, but realized that I didn’t miss the list that much, so I didn’t bother.

I will paste the correspondence below, then unpack it for you all. This shouldn’t be necessary, but given the ultra-reactionary times in which we live, I guess it’s necessary.

Here is the exchange:

December 17, 2011

Hi there,

Here’s a question that I guess could also be somewhat philosophical in that it will make us think about how we deal with and interact with sighted people.

As blind folks, do you think we have a responsibility to not only make our homes comfortable and accessible for us and the folks with whom we live, but also to sighted folks?

I’ve heard comments in the past that basically say that since it’s a blind person’s home, then the only thing that should be of concern is that things are comfortable and accessible for the blind person.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this over a long period of time. I have some friends that come over, and one in particular who stays in my guest room when he’s in town, and when all of that happens, I’m the only blind person around. All of a sudden, I begin to think about lights and the amount of light in a room. I begin thinking of making sure that appliances that are labeled in Braille are done using clear tape so that they can also use them.
I even began thinking of the layout of my living room and how one of my friends finally said that it was uncomfortable to do things like watch TV or watch movies, because of how my furniture and TV are placed. People have to face sideways to be able to watch TV. And, my TV is so old that it doesn’t support or have HD capabilities.

I began wondering about the importance of a blind person having an aesthetically or visually appealing house, not only for himself but also for the sighted friends and family that come to visit. Are we being selfish by not considering these things, or should sighted company learn to live with how we have things and deal with them?

I’m beginning to think that if I care about my friends and family, then I should do something to make them feel comfortable in a place where they spend quite a bit of time. But then, where does one draw the line?

Anyway, hope you don’t mind the question. Just curious what other blind folks (especially those who are totally blind) think.

Thanks,

Juan

My response:

Juan:

Next time your friends come over and bitch about the lack of light, say something like this:

“You know what,” (insert name) “…You know what? Every freakin’ day, I get up and move around in a sighted world. I work on a finite schedule with the aid of public transit because I can’t drive. If the bus or train is late…so am I. If inclement weather strikes, I don’t get in my car and turn on the windshield wipers. I freeze my nuts off in the rain or snow until I can get on a bus.

When I go shopping, I pray to God that I can land a shopper’s assistant who is, at the very least, literate. If they speak English, it makes my day. If they speak English fluently…Jesus, I’ve been known to weep with joy. If I shop on line, I’ll be lucky if capcha, internet graphics and flash don’t give me a migraine that could floor Robin Williams on a coke binge!

Sorry if I seem a little grumpy. I just came from a job for which I’m vastly over-qualified. I have a freakin’ master’s degree in mathematics, or genetics, or whatever, but every institution/company at which I apply is run by sighted pricks who have figured out a way not to hire me. God bless the ADA and the well-intentioned, ignorant bastards who sleep better at night for having passed it. And God bless social security, who is still haunting my ass four years later because I forgot to report the
income I made running a cash register so that I could put bread on the table in between college semesters.

It makes a guy wonder if Walter White didn’t have a point. Screw it! Can blind people be meth cookers? You ever see Breaking Bad? You know…it’s that super good crime show on AMC that doesn’t air with description because Hollywood is too God damn cheap to give us description with all of their content, even though they can well afford to do so with minimal effort.

You want friggin’ light bulbs? Drive to the store and grab a few boxes. I’d take you myself, but I haven’t won the Power Ball yet and can’t afford a self-driving car. But let me give you directions. Siri! Work! C’mon, damn it! What’s the nearest Wal-Mart?

Flashlight? Who are you kidding? What friggin’ flashlight? Just use my cigar lighter to light your way to the door. Pick me up a new can of butane on the way back. Yes, I smoke cigars. No, I’m not amazing. Dealing with your ignorant ass makes me wanna smoke one right now. No, I don’t need help lighting it. Get your damn hands off me before Mr. Fist meets Mr. Sack!

It’s your world and you’re the king. Every day, I get up and I don’t just live. I thrive, brother. Grow the hell up!”

Then, out loud you can say:

“Umm, sure thing, man. Sorry for my insensitivity to your situation. Can you drive me to the nearest Safeway to grab a few bulbs? And hey…can we swing through for a Big Mac on the way home?”

Now Juan, I’ve been assuming that the people in question are men. If they are women, just say:

“Lights? Honey, for what we’re gonna be doin’, we don’t need no freakin’ lights.”

Sexist and boorish, but oh so true.

Love,

RyanO

That was the little chat that caused Dave, the NFB list admin, to write me and accuse me of exhibiting, “Bigotry toward the sighted.” Once again, let me state that it makes me sad to have to explain myself, but here goes.

Any clear-thinking individual would not interpret my previous message as being bigoted toward the sighted in any way. It was a mixture of sarcasm and satire. It is factual. Every day, we as blind people get up and operate within a sighted world. Although social morays seem to be changing, we must still adhere to the pragmatic view that the world defers to those who can see. This is not a question of philosophy; it is fact.

It is really a matter of numbers. The number of sighted people so drastically outweighs the number of blind people that it would not make any kind of sense not to set up the constructs of the world to favor the sighted.

That said, I find it darkly ironic that anyone would worry about the feelings of the sighted when they still reign victorious in every arena that matters. It is a reality that I accept, but please permit me to feel a burst of anger about it from time to time. This doesn’t mean that I am angry about my blindness, or in denial, or maladjusted. It simply means that, when I go outside my apartment and walk to the bus stop and have to travel in the street because there are no sidewalks to be found anywhere in my neighborhood, I might get a bit cranky, particularly when the first big snow of the season hits.

Am I a bad host? I try not to be. When my sighted pals Kevin or Christina come over, I make sure to accommodate them. If a lightbulb is burned out, I will replace it. I don’t own a TV, but if I did, I’d make sure to place it in such a position that my sighted guests would be comfortable while watching it. If I dated or married a sighted or partially sighted woman, and she wanted to hang pictures on the walls, or decorate our home in a fashion which she found visually pleasing, I would be all for it.

Incidentally, the last time my friend Christina visited, she helped me mark my microwave and my laundry machines, which are both touch panel. My thermostat is a bit more tricky as it is a push-button device with a visual display. I usually just call the good folks at Be My Eyes if I want to change the temperature, while I save up to buy a talking unit.

The philosophical money shot of Juan’s message (his real name is Jim, by the way), is this:

“Are we being selfish by not considering these things, or should sighted company learn to live with how we have things and deal with them?

I have never been a homeowner, but I have lived in my share of apartments. However, my parents owned the home in which I grew up. I have friends and family who own homes. Their domiciles are places that reflect their personalities. My pal Steve adorned the walls of his apartments with all manner of sports memorabilia. My father is an avid hunter, so it’s natural that he would have a few animal heads stuffed and mounted on his wall. Should my parents then go to great lengths to take down all evidence of Dad’s carnivorous tendencies if an ardent animal lover visits them at their house? No. Should my folks think about not entertaining said guest in the area where the animal heads are visible? That would go under the heading of good manners, in my opinion.

So yes, I think we should reasonably accommodate our sighted friends and family as a matter of courtesy and consideration. But don’t call me a bigot because I find a lot of dark irony in Juan’s questions. We used to call him Jaime, by the way.

As I said, this message was written six years ago. Certain things are dated in it. I referenced Robin Williams, who is no longer with us. Breaking Bad was still on the air. To this day, I’ve never found a described version that I can pirate from the Blind Mice Mall. Come on, Brits! Get with it! Also, it was written before Uber and Lyft became mainstream.

Yes… Uber and Lyft. Ride-sharing services have made it easier for us as blind people in many respects. Meanwhile, I went to order a Christmas gift for a friend the other night, but was not able to do so because the website was inaccessible. The owners of the company wrote me and said, “We appreciate your feedback. We hope to make changes to our site sometime next year and will do our best to incorporate the needs of our visually impaired customer base.”

Glad to hear it, guys. So should I just hold off till next Christmas? They don’t have a telephone option, but if they did, they would probably charge me an additional fee for ordering a product with a live representative. I’m reminded of the Springsteen song, “One step forward, two steps back.”

Now, if you want to accuse me of sexism or misogyny based on the “Honey, we won’t need no freakin’ lights,” comment, you could probably make a compelling case. That was written long before the #MeToo movement gained traction. However, I will take solace in the knowledge that I would never actually treat a woman in such a manner. I will humbly admit that I added that comment in an attempt to push buttons. It sure worked.

I will close with the words of Boyd Crowder from the TV series, Justified. After all, if we can open with Wells, we should close with Elmore Leonard, in the vain hope of trying to leaven this blog with a little culture, right?

“Whole world’s a tree, Raylan. I’m just a squirrel tryin’ to get a nut.”

Ghosts

There has been a great deal of talk over the past six days about Nazis and racism, punctuated by the violence in Charlottesville. Given the presidency of Donald Trump, this was a flair-up that was bound to happen sooner or later.

Someone I followed on Facebook made a comment that I’m paraphrasing here. “My grandfather fought in World War II, so I take this Nazi stuff very personally.”

I sympathize with this view. Both of my grandfathers, plus three uncles, fought in World War II, so I take it personally as well. I also take personally the fact that some members of the left are comparing the Antifa thugs to men like my grandfathers and uncles.

While the focus has largely been on President Trump, my thoughts are on Iceland. This past Monday, CBS News ran a story, discussing the fact that 100 percent of women in that country abort their babies if they are found to have Down syndrome. This is a phenomenon that is growing in Europe and beginning here in the United States as well. In my view, the tone of the report was positive.

I contrast this report with an Email I received from the Colorado Cross Disability Coalition a couple of months ago when healthcare reform was all the rage and it looked as if much-needed Medicaid reform would be a real possibility. The Email urged everyone to call and write their congressional representatives so that we might, “Avoid a second eugenics movement.”

Really? This from many of the same people who felt it necessary to occupy Cory Gardner’s office for days, until they were arrested for trespassing? All due respect, I can do without the hyperbole or the political theatrics. Moreover, if you want to see what real eugenics looks like, take a look at Iceland. Today, Down Syndrome. Tomorrow, when ultrasound technology becomes more advanced, why couldn’t it be babies who might be blind, deaf, crippled, or who’s brains might not develop properly?

You know who else loved the idea of designer babies? I’ll give you a hint. He was really big in Germany in the 1930’s and he damn near conquered Europe in the early 1940’s. So, all of you disabled people tossing around words like “Nazi,” and “Eugenics,” might want to do some research. Then, go take a hard look in the mirror and re-examine your own values system. Do you favor abortion under the pro-choice, pro-woman banner? If so, what’s your limiting principle? Many of you who call yourselves Christians or humanitarians, and who are tempted to just read this and move on, might ask yourselves some hard questions.

One more thing. Both of my grandfathers and all three uncles made it home from the battlefields of WW2, but not all of them were whole. Uncle Don had a severe case of battle fatigue; it would be called PTSD today. He could not speak coherently or fully take care of himself. He lived with my grandparents until he passed away. I was a kid when I knew him and, in my young mind, he rattled around in their basement like a strange, mumbling specter. Many countries might look at him today and decide that it would be more merciful to alleviate his suffering through euthanasia, rather than to expend the resources to provide him long-term care, despite his service to his country.

God bless you, Uncle Don. I hope it all makes sense to you now, because it sure doesn’t to me.

From dictionary.com:

Eugenics

Definition: The science of improving a human population by controlled breeding to increase the occurrence of desirable heritable characteristics. Developed largely by Francis Galton as a method of improving the human race, it fell into disfavor only after the perversion of its doctrines by the Nazis.

Whitewash

I was discussing the notion of white privilege with several coworkers yesterday.

One of them, who hails from Ecuador, is convinced that she faces a tide of constant discrimination in the U.S. because she is a Latina with dark skin. I chafed at the notion that white privilege is a universal concept, when another coworker jumped in.

“Yes, white privilege does exist. Societies tend to discriminate based on the lightness of one’s skin. Other cultures and countries even do it.”

I agree with this. I do think that a preference for lightness of skin is an unfortunate flaw of the species, but it’s not indigenous to white society.

I continued the discussion with yet another coworker this morning, balking at the notion of universal white privilege.

“Ryan!” he said. “You have white privilege. Accept it.”

I countered that, when people see me, they don’t see my white skin. The first thing they see is my white cane. He seemed less than convinced.

This presumption (that I encounter on my job daily) reminds me of a conversation I had with another blind woman several years ago. She grew up in the Boston ghetto (her term, not mine.) She was a white girl of Irish ancestry who was a minority amongst blacks and Hispanics. She faced a double whammy because she was also disabled.

When she was attending college, a professor told her class to write an essay explaining how white privilege had impacted their lives. She Emailed her prof and challenged her thinking, claiming that she had not benefitted from white privilege because she’d been a double minority in her neighborhood and school.

The professor’s reply was classic condescending leftist. “Sorry, Milissa. Even though you’re disabled, you still benefit from privilege.”

This lady had no inkling of Milissa’s background, yet she presumed to categorize and dismiss her out of hand.

I’m using Milissa’s name because I don’t think she’d care, by the way.

But what of this notion of privilege. My Ecuadorian coworker is probably the wealthiest person on staff where I work. She loves to wallow in her status as a victim, but she and her family live in a damn fine home. I’ve been there. What if said coworker walked into a Wendy’s restaurant, dressed in her typical upper middle class fashion, and stood in line next to a white homeless man? Would he benefit from white privilege in his treatment by the restaurant staff then?

Hell no!

If you want to talk about class privilege, I’ll listen. It’s another unfortunate flaw in the human condition that exists in every society and culture. But spare me the idea that every person with white skin gets a leg up in life.

Enjoy Your Meal

Folks, I want to thank all of the anonymous, well-intentioned people who have paid for my meals at restaurants over the years. I know you were just trying to “pay it forward.”

But it’s not necessary.

There are many people in this world who could use a free meal. College kids who are working on a degree. Post grads who are struggling to pay back their student loans. Service men and women who want to save that extra bit of cash for their families. Cops, teachers, nurses and others who keep our community vibrant. Single parents who put food in the mouths of their kids before feeding themselves. The list goes on and on.

Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean that I need your charity. I work for a living and have been doing so for almost three years now. If you could see a photo of me, you’d be well aware that I ain’t starvin’.

Many blind people like myself are gainfully employed and should be the ones who are paying it forward. Some are trying to find work and have not succeeded. Others choose not to work. Yet, how strange that most blind people I know seem to be able to afford those shiny toys that they don’t really need, regardless of their income levels.

Nah, folks. If you want to buy a meal for a stranger, do it for someone who truly needs and deserves it. But, if you really have a compulsory need to spend money on me, send me a box of cigars.

“Splat!”

Friends, there are many things that annoy me as a blind person, but the true Bain of my existence are those well-intentioned people who can’t take no for an answer.

Take this morning, for example. Every day, I make my way from my cozy apartment to Denver Union Station, where I lay over for about 20 minutes before catching a bus to Boulder. I know the station like the back of my hand. I know where I’m going and where I don’t want to go.

This morning, I was killing time inside the station when I heard a loud “bang!” behind me. To my ear, it sounded like the escalator breaking.

Curiosity compelled me to walk over to the “up” escalator to investigate to see whether or not it was operational. As I approached it, some guy starts talking to me in a loud voice.

“Hey man! You’re trying to go down the up escalator! Hey man! You wanna go downstairs?”

“I’m fine, pal. Thank you,” I said.

That should’ve been the end of it, but alas, it was not.

“Hey, the down escalator is over there. You wanna go to your right,” he said as I placed my hand on the railing of the “up” escalator and determined that, yes, it was still working.

“I’m fine, buddy. Thank you,” I said again.

Satisfied that the escalator was working properly, I turned to walk over to stand by the wall, which is my customary place whenever the weather is too cold to allow me to stand outside the station.

“Hey man. The down escalator is to your left. Turn left.”

“BE GONE, MEDDLING INSECT!!!” I bellowed. Then, out loud, I said, “I said I’m fine, pal.”

“I was just tryin’ to help. Jesus!” he muttered as he went downstairs.

You guys know that scene in The Departed when Martin Shean falls off of the roof of a hundred-story building and splatters in a Boston alley? The sound effect is exquisite. I’d like to think that it’s what that fellow would’ve sounded like if I’d grabbed him by the neck and hurled him over the side of the escalator, thereby sending him plummeting to his messy doom in the subterranean bus terminal. Alas, we will never know.

A few minutes later, I was walking to my bus gate when I passed the same fellow.

“You’re doing fine, man. Just keep goin’ straight. Keep goin’. Keep goin’.”

I read once in a C. J. Box novel that, when you rip a man’s ear off, it sounds like the bones of a chicken wing snapping. Alas, we will never know.

To all of my sighted readers, I implore you! It’s fine to offer assistance to a blind person, but if they tell you they are doing fine, just leave it at that. You’ll still get your positive karma for doing your good turn daily.

For all of my blind readers, don’t believe the lies. Violence solves everything.

When I Figure Out the Ballot, Will I be Too Old to Care?

Last Saturday, we were honored to have a guest speaker at our NFB Denver chapter meeting. She was a rep from the League of Women Voters. She seemed like a kindly, gentle soul who was very genuine. She reminded me a lot of my friend Deb, sans the squash soup.

She was there to outline the many different proposed amendments, propositions and other items that will appear in our local ballot in three weeks. This is a tradition that has occurred for many years between the local NFB and the League of Women Voters.

She began her speech by saying, “I was here once before and I made a boo-boo. I used the word, see.”

Immediately, a dozen members tried to console her, But our assurances did not seem to assuage her fears. Several times throughout her presentation, she tripped over the word, “see,” pausing self-consciously to say, “Oops! I did it again.”

I figured that someone with more gravitas would buttonhole her after the meeting and have a friendly, enlightening chat with her.

As it happened, I was leaving and she held the door for me. I thanked her for sacrificing her Saturday, told her I enjoyed her presentation very much and then I asked her, “Has anyone talked to you about the word, see, yet?”

“No,” she said, sounding genuinely confused.

Batter up!

I proceeded to explain to her that most blind people don’t have a problem with words like, “See,” “Look,” or “Sight.” I told her that the word, “See,” doesn’t merely mean to view something with one’s eyes. It also connotes a general perception or understanding of a concept or point. “I see what you’re saying,” or “Look at the facts.”

I further explained that most blind people would notice her awkward attempts to steer around the terms more than they would take note of her use of them as part of a smooth presentation.
I told her that none of us were offended in the least by her use of such words and I wanted to make sure she did not leave thinking she had ruffled any feathers. She seemed to see my point.

Then she said, “Look at the sky. It’s so blue today. Oh gosh! I’m sorry! I did it again!”

*sigh*

Oh well. She has decades of misconceptions to overcome.

So for all of our sighted friends, please don’t police your speech around blind people. Most of us don’t give a damn and the ones who do are the ones who have the real problem.

Stick to the important issues, like banning Halloween costumes from college campuses because they signify cultural appropriation. Next year, I’m gonna go as a sighted person and see if anyone gets offended.

Burned Out

The following is excerpted from my Facebook page. It is self-explanatory, so I will do very little editorializing throughout, save to occasionally expound on the credentials of a certain poster. I will include my original remarks, then selected comments that were left in response to what I said. I will save further editorial remarks until the end.

Original Remarks:

There are some things that blind people just can’t do. I hate to say it and I know it will anger many of my NFB friends, but it does no good when we ignore the hard facts.
One of the things we can’t do is adequately grill meat.
I was working the CCB summer program two years ago and I asked a coworker who was known for his boastful nature if he would show me how to grill burgers.
“Sho thang! Sho thang!” he retorted in his usual pompous, loquacious manner. “I’m the only guy who can show you how to do it without vision.” I hasten to add here that said coworker was a high partial, which means that he had a fair amount of useable vision.
So the appointed time came when he and I stood over the propane grill with a plate of raw burger patties. He showed me how to turn on the gas, light the burners and arrange the burgers on the grill.
He kept going on and on about using the sound of the sizzling meat to know when it was time to flip the burgers. Then he suddenly grabbed the spatula out of my hand saying, “H’oh! Whoa! Ya got a fire under one a dose! Le’me get it.”
I pause in my narrative to add that my esteemed coworker was not wearing sleep shades.
Anyway, he handed me the spatula back and showed me how to flip the rest of the burgers and remove them from the grill when cooked. But what would’ve happened if he had been blind and had not seen the grease fire? I guess the smell of charred meat would’ve eventually clued us into the fact that there was a serious problem.
I do have a friend who is almost totally blind and he does grill, but he doesn’t have any control over the temperature of the meat. It’s a crap shoot as to whether or not you’re going to get your burger rare, medium or well-charred.
Look, I don’t enjoy saying this. There is a long tradition of grilling in my family. My dad is an expert in grilling steaks, burgers, hot dogs, chicken breasts, salmon and many other kinds of meat over charcoal, propane and wood pellets. I want to follow in that tradition, but as Dirty Harry always said, “A man’s got to know his limitations.”
Now that I’m depressed, I guess I’ll go to Burger King and get a flame-broiled Whopper. It’s better than nothing. *sniffle*

Note: The following comments were just some that were left in response and, in my view, represent a fair cross-section of the discussion. I am leaving only their first names out of regard for their anonymity.

From Katy:

So true. *sad puppy sniffles*

From Lauren:

The grill and all the noises it makes stresses me out too much. I feel you.

From Karly:

I am blind and a home management instructor teaching the structured discovery model. I grill, and teach my students how to grill all the time. Yes, I was very intimidated to use the grill at first, but I have learned it really is trial and error and figuring it out with patience and practice. I finlally was able to purchase my first grill earlier this summer and literally have not used my stove since. I use a meat thermometer at times, I also use my spatula and tongs to tell when the meat is done, as well as timing, which is very very important. You can also do what I like to call the tap method, (I dunno if that is a technical term) LOL, but if you tap your finger on the meat, or whatever you are grilling you can tell the texture of the food you are cooking to tell doneness as well. I have caught burgers on fire, and realized it by smell and sound, but I turned the grill off and the flames did subside. If you heat the grill on high before placing your food on it, cleaning the grill first, then turning it down to the required tempature to cook your food, you will not have as many flare-ups because you have already burned off any left over grease. I was taken -a-back by this post, because with proper instruction and lots of practice, I find grilling to be a very enjoyable and delicious way to cook. I have cooked many different types of food, (burgers, steak, tuna, pork chops, corn, portobella mushrooms, onions, squash, eggplant… I could go on and on. I hope that those who are apprehensive about grilling, will find this post helpful.

From Alicia:

While this may seem unrelated on the surface, bear with me. This comment thread reminds me of something that happened at CCB. I came to the Center knowing very well that a blind person could do things like rock climb, white-water raft, sky dive, and all manner of other thrill-seeking activities. I also knew I could learn the daily living skills the Center taught. It was mostly that I’d never had the opportunity to learn, but I knew once the opportunity was there, I could do it. However, when a pair of blind friends said to me, “Let’s go play air hockey,” I looked at them like they were nuts, and said, “No way can a blind person play air hockey.” they showed me differently. It was just kind of interesting that I knew a blind person could do all this other big stuff the sighted world doesn’t think we can, but I never thought we could play air hockey. Now there’s this thread. I’ve known we could do all manner of things, but like Ryan, didn’t think something like grilling burgers was one of them. It’s just curious how sometimes we know we’re capable in the big areas, but don’t think we are in the smaller ones. And then we start sharing tips and tricks, and sometimes figure out we are after all.

From Jeff, who is also an instructor:

Ryan, I do understand that it can be very challenging, but each of us has to resist the impulse to give in to the initial frustration, or the erge to believe that our personal experience is the only possible outcome for anyone that is blind. I have successfully grilled many times over the years, and once in a while, things have not gone as well as I would have liked, but these have become the exception, rather than the rule. in fact it was one of the saddest days of my life when our grill gave up the goast, and we were reduced to using a Forman grill. I am planning to buy a new one, that will run on house gas this time, so I don’t have to mess with those bottles that always manage to run out of fuel at the worst possible time. My first suggestion is to purchase a grill basket. This is perhaps one of the greatest inventions in human history, well there are a few better ones I suppose, but it is up there. This allows you to perfectly place the meat and keep it in place. It also allows you to flip the meat without the slightest difficulty. Now each grill cooks a little different, but as mentioned above, there are only a few things you need to have control over, and timing is the most important one. Once you have the knowledge of how long your grill takes to cook to the degree of doneness you want, you have become the master of your domain! So, hang in there my friend, each of us deserves to have the joy of grilling a burger or steak over a fire, and savering that smoky flavor with our friends.

From Briana:

Honestly Ryan, even sighted, I go based on the springiness of the meat. Rare is a squishy spring all the way to well done which has very little to no spring at all. I can usually tell how cooked it is by how my fork pierces the meat. You always want a clean grill and if you know how your grill cooks (the hottest and coolest parts of the grill ) you can rotate meats as needed. Keep practicing, and ask questions, I have faith you will do well.

From Dave, another sighted person:

Why I was always happy to man the grill at the annual cookout each year!!

From Martin, yet another instructor:

The 3 t’s of cooking for blind people
Time
Temperature
Touch
And taste if needed.

From Ryan O:

Martin, have you done it? How the hell do you touch a burger while it’s grilling without burning your fingers?

From Martin:

Oh, there will be scorched fingertips from time to time, but you have to ask yourself… Is this burger worth it? The answer is inevitably yes!

From Grace:

No, totally not worth it. Plenty of cook outs to go to put on by sighted friends where I can have a burger without the burns.

From Ryan O:

I remember a friend used a burger basket and it was very effective. I’ve never even seen a meat thermometer. Is it accessible?

From Martin:

Yes, Carina actually has one that talks.

In closing, let me say that I fell into a trap that I have avoided for years. About 15 years ago, I chose to discard my electric razor and start shaving with a safety razor. I was nervous about cuts and nicks, but now, I would never go back to the electric model.

About 10 years ago, I took up smoking cigars as a full time vice. Some sighted and blind friends expressed skepticism that I would be able to light the cigar without burning holes in my clothing or setting my apartment on fire. A decade later and I can boast of a few holes in clothing, but no fires.

My new goal is to grill myself and a friend or two a burger before the summer is over. I will let you know how it turns out.

We never stop learning.

Roll On, God’s Will

I’ve tried to hold my tongue on this because I haven’t read the book or seen the movie, but the plot is spoiled out there, so let me address some of the hysteria surrounding “Me Before You,” from the disabled community.

For those of you who are guilty of being, “Ablest,” and may not recognize the reference, here’s a friendly nudge. “Me Before You,” was a romance novel written by Jojo Moyes, which has now been adapted into a movie. The story takes place in merry old England and follows an active rich guy (Will) who is paralyzed in a motorcycle accident. A young girl (Louisa) who is a bit of a dim bulb takes a job as his caretaker. Long story short…Will encourages Louisa to become more educated and learn more about the world. She tries to convince him that he can still live a full life, even though he’s confined to a wheelchair. After six months, he admits that he’s had a better life than he has ever known, but flies off to Switzerland, where a doctor helps him drift off into the big sleep. But he leaves Louisa a nice nest egg so she can continue her education.

First, this is not an anti-disability movie. It is a pro-right to die movie, just as “Million Dollar Baby,” was. Where was the outrage over that? Could it be that Clint Eastwood just makes euthanasia look much more sexy? For all of you disabled leftists out there who support individual choice in the right to die arena, congratulations. You got what you wanted. How do you like it?

Sidebar: Get ready for the time (it isn’t too far away) when the abortion of disabled fetuses becomes much more common. Same concept… Other end of the spectrum. But it’s about personal choice so it’s all good, right?

Second, many so-called disabled activists are outraged because Hollywood depicts other minorities in a favorable light, while still looking down on the disabled. People, are you really surprised that we are at the bottom of the pecking order? The game of identity politics burst onto the scene in the 1960s. It was elevated to an art form in the 1990s. Why do you suppose the disabled haven’t gotten very far in the entertainment arena? Think hard. This is not a rhetorical question.

Third, many disabled bloggers (who often traffic in sanctimony) trumpet The notion that Jojo Moyes had no business writing this novel in the first place. One blogger says, “This wasn’t her story to tell.” This is a spurious argument that smacks of more than a little arrogant condescension. Larry McMurtry wasn’t alive in the 19th century. Does that mean he should’ve foregone the writing of Lonesome Dove? Dennis Lehane has written several novels dealing with racism. Should we burn his novels and lambaste his credibility because he’s white? Of course not! You can argue that Moyes’ novel was poorly researched or poorly written, but in a free society, you don’t get to decide who should and shouldn’t write what.

Finally, you know what Internet petitions are good for? Nothing! If I was really feeling generous, I could print one out with all 56,000 signatures, wipe my bum with it, crumple it into a filth-smeared wad and leave it in the compost bucket at work as a token for my greenie-weenie coworkers. One petition author whines, “Hollywood! Why do you want me dead?” Another calls this movie, “a disability snuff film.”

Folks, a snuff film is a movie in which someone is actually murdered for the purpose of exploitation. Nobody died in this movie. I know it’s common to employ hyperbole to garner attention, but for god’s sake, at least be accurate!

Ok, I’m done. Rant over. I’ve worked out all my stress, as well as other things while composing this on the toilet. Can somebody grab me that petition from Change.org out of the printing tray? I just ran out of toilet paper.

P.S.: As I stated at the beginning of this entry, I’ve not read the book or seen the movie. I have no intention of doing so. I have a lot of Hardy Boys books to get to before I’ll get around to reading a romance novel. I also don’t know anything about the writing abilities of Jojo Moyes. That said, irony often escapes the masses and subtlety is often drowned out by the megaphone of social media.

That said, some disabilities are involuntary and some are self-imposed. That is very likely the over-arching theme of the novel, if not the movie. Will chooses to allow his disability to rule his life and ultimately, his death, but he gives Luisa the wisdom and the tools to make a different choice for herself. Life is about choices, no?

I originally wrote this rant on Facebook. No one shared it; not even Evaney From Miami. I did get called, “A confrontational dick,” by Kevin; a guy who doesn’t even follow me. Thanks, Kev. Love your passion. You must be a Trump supporter.

Yeah…Trump. There’s a real handicap right there. Who am I to judge Will Traynor? If The Donald wins in November, maybe I’ll fly off to Switzerland for a consultation with Dignitas.