How many balls can I juggle?

So I've left this blog go fallow for far too long. I really don't have the time to do anything with it, but I really should find a place to put this psychic energy.

I'm back in school now, and realize that my ability to tolerate bureaucratic bullshit is less now than it was when I was 20. I often wonder if the pounding in my skull is a vessel about to burst or if it's just a warning from my body that I'm getting too spun up. Maybe it's both.

This aging thing is befuddling to me. I'm both horrified that I'm getting older and haven't seemed to manage to accomplish anything the world would notice and then I'm also settling into my skin I guess. I'm more comfortable with my quirks and the things about me that I found so odd and "not normal" as a younger woman that now, frankly, I think are pretty damn cool. I'm much cooler than I appear and I like that.

And still I have this feeling that there is a change coming fairly soon. I don't know what it will be but it's going to be good. I don't know why I think that but I'm going to embrace it while it lasts. I so rarely have feelings of optimism.

This has been a year of growth and change for me in many ways. I've shed off the husks of friendships that were sapping and tiresome. Not that it was easy of course, but sometimes you find out that you've outgrown a friendship and there is nothing else that can be done except cut it off. Of course, it would have been nice to know that was going to be necessary before I spent money heading out on a "vacation" with my friend only to find out that she wasn't who I thought she was all these years. I could have used that money to go elsewhere.

Travel. Man I have the wanderlust. I want to go to New England and visit so much that I'm looking for ways to make it happen. Nevermind the fact that I have 3 kids and a small zoo here at the house! An well.

OK so that's it for this entry. Not very bitchy I guess. But I'm sure something will happen today that gets that vein on my forehead throbbing.

Worst Person in America

There are so many things going wrong in the US today how can I possibly know who is the worst person in America?? Well it's easy. When there is no grey area like there is in the whole Iraq thing, or Hillary Clinton's ability to tell the truth, or medicare reform...then you can easily tell. And today the worst person in America is the Editor of the University of Arizona, Wildcat newspaper, Ms Hornick. Here is the "cartoon" that Ms Hornick thought was so funny it should be published.
http://kvoa.com/Global/story.asp?S=7197356&nav=HMO6

And here is my response which I sent to the local MSNBC station in Tuscon, Senator John McCain, the local Anti-Defamation league, the Dean of Students, and Ms Hornick herself. Since bigotry is cowardice, I don't expect Ms Hornick to reply to my letter but I hope that I can push the Uof A to do something.

Dear Sirs:
I am writing today to discuss the Topmiller cartoon you had the tremendous lack of foresight to publish. I notice the instructions for leaving feedback ask for my connection to the University and no doubt you look at my address and wonder why I’m writing. My connection is this...the internet. Additionally, you and I share the same planet and the same country; therefore, what you do becomes my business. In fairness I do believe that’s a hard thing to adjust to. What used to happen in one’s little corner of the Earth now spreads like a wildfire across dry grass in what seems like moments. But this is the "Information Age" and this is how life works now. So, you are getting feedback from my little corner of the Earth because what you did, the ugly stone you dropped in the lake has caused ripples that have reached me all the way in Florida.

So, the "cartoon"... it wasn’t funny. When I read it, I was horrified and then felt sick to my stomach. Then I tried to view it dispassionately and see if it made me chuckle. It did not. Then I imagined myself a narrow-minded bigot and read it again – still not funny. So, this is the first way, you, the Editorial staff, failed. Cartoons are supposed to be funny. This one was not. If humor is an attribute that has eluded you, please take a moment to peruse Dilbert, The Far Side, Calvin and Hobbes or for genius in cartoon "Sound Sleeping in the Neighborhood" by Van Amerongen. The second way you failed is by outing your bigotry. Let me make this abundantly clear because this point has been lost largely due to American college campuses. It does not matter if you hate Jews, Blacks, women, babies, small furry dogs, or root vegetables. How you feel, what you think, those are your emotions and feelings and you have every right to them. Whether or not they enhance your life or make you feel good inside is between you and whatever deity you choose to believe in. When you let those feelings loose and act on them, then you have committed a crime against humanity. Then your actions poison and dirty the world I live in and you have no right to do that. Freedom of speech does not mean freedom to hurt. I know the ACLU would have us all believe that it does but just because we can do a thing doesn’t mean we should.

The job of Editor is to function as the parent of the staff. The guiding hand. Especially on a college paper. Not everyone that makes it into college or onto a paper staff should be there. Your job is to look at your finished work product and say "Does this paper represent what we stand for?" Because everything you put in it, from the smallest ad to the front page story has your implied endorsement. No hiding behind other sub-editors here. "THE EDITOR" means "YOUR HEAD ON THE CHOPPING BLOCK" and you should have been more careful. But as a reader, I have only one conclusion to draw...the University of Arizona Wildcat newspaper Editor is an anti-Semite. And since bigotry is cowardice, it’s likely the whole paper staff are bigotted. Does it extend to the Dean too? We shall see. The country is now watching to see what will happen. What occurs over the course of the next few days and weeks will color how the University will be seen and the atmosphere that will exist there.

You know, in your heart of hearts, you would not have run that "cartoon" had it talked about gay men, feminists, liberals, or Muslims. Why is it still OK to pick on the Jewish people? Are some Jews cheap? You bet they are. But my older brother is a Roman Catholic as is humanly possible and he would leave tips in fractions to save money if he could. Being cheap is not a requirement to be a Jew. Being cheap is a function of personality not religion. The origins of that particular stereotype are rooted deep in history and are in large part responsible for the Holocaust. Hitler made the Jews a scapegoat by saying "Look at how much they have when you are starving." You work at a University...look it up. So with this one "cartoon" not only have you perpetuated a stereotype you have opened old wounds. Deep and ugly wounds. Not something I would be proud to say I had a hand in. But then again, I know better than to let my own prejudices, and we all have them, loose in the world to do damage. Shame on you, your staff, and Mr. Topmiller. Shame on the University of Arizona for not having sacked the lot of you already. And you’d better be thankful that Jews are as a people far more forgiving and peace-loving than are Muslims or you might be in fear of your life. Ask the Dutch what a cartoon can do to someone’s little patch of this Earth.

I will be CCing this letter to the Dean of the University, Senator McCain and anyone else I can think of. Your misstep, if it was one, will not remain hidden. The time to hide prejudice is in your head. Once you let the monster loose in the world, you are responsible for whatever damage Bigotry does. It doesn’t just do its harm and die, it replicates. It reproduces, it plants its seeds in others and the beast spreads. Others may be willing to just shrug it off as a non-issue but I am not. In the immortal words of Edmund Burke, "All that’s necessary for the forces of evil to win in the world is for good men to do nothing." And you, with your tacit approval for this ugliness, have perpetrated an act of evil on the world. I for one will not sit by and do nothing. We have enough cowardice in the world, I will not be a part of it.

Deeply Disappointed in Florida,

What Does a Blind Person Look Like Actually?

Never a dull moment for someone that appears in a small backwater town with a service dog. So, here's my question...what does a blind person look like? What do the people of Panama City Florida think? Highlights from my informal survey: (survey done by the way when various people said to me "You don't look blind.")

~*~

A woman in her late sixties or at least looking like she was, says "You git around gud fer a blind girl." I know maybe I should be proud of that. Strangers don't often compliment each other. I want to smile but her body odor is making me want to gag.

"Uh...I'm not blind."

"Yer not? Oh I thought you were since you had that there dog."

"He's a service dog. There are dogs that do many different jobs."

"Well you look blind ta me," she cackles at herself and dissolves into tobacco induced hacking. I'm hoping she doesn't spray me with mucus.

"What does a blind person look like?" I ask her.

"Ya know...like Ray Charles."

This answer confuses me since I am not wearing dark glasses...in fact I have no glasses at all on and I'm making eye contact with her. I search the depth of my soul for some shred of compassion for this obviously ignorant woman but I find none and so the next thing out of my mouth is, "You mean an overweight Black man in his 60s?"

She blinks at me. I smell the smoke as her brain cells fire trying to understand what I'm talking about. "Huh?"

"Well Ray Charles is an overweight Black man who is getting on in years. Is that what all blind people look like?"

Blink. Now her mouth is hanging slightly open and I am worried that her moist breath might give me TB. I step back a few steps.

"Um...OK well thanks for the compliment." I say as I walk away. I see her out of the corner of my eye, her mouth is still hanging open.

~*~

On a different day in a different store I get the same question, "You don't look blind to me!" This time from a middle-aged clerk.

"I don't? What does a blind person look like?" I ask. People are always taken aback by this question.

"Well, " she says thoughtfully, "You know...stumbling around and knocking stuff over."

"Hmm...that doesn't sound like a blind person, that sounds like a drunk person. How many blind people do you know?" I ask.

"Well I know plenty and they are always getting into stuff." Now she's defensive....she should be. She's about to get hit with a shit storm.

"THEY?" I ask, "They. You mean to tell me that blind people as a group, across the entire human population all do the same thing?"

"Well the ones I know do." and now she's moved from defensive to openly hostile.

"And how many is that exactly? And are these people completely blind or are you including those with some sight?"

"B-L-I-N-D" she spells it for me, since apparently I don't understand simple language. "You know," waving her hand a fraction of an inch in front of her face, "BLIND."

"Ah. So, being the expert in this immediate area, you are contending that there is only one kind of blindness?"

"Yeah, uh no, I didn't say I was an expert in anything. I'm just telling you that the blind people I know get into stuff."

"Like puppies?" I ask.

"What?!" she's raising her voice now. "Who brought up puppies?"

"I did. You said blind people are always getting into stuff and puppies do that. So I'm wondering if that's how you can tell someone is blind...when they act like puppies?"

"Look Ma'am...I never said nothing about puppies I just said you don't look blind what's so bad about that?"

"Because it makes you a bigot." Out of the corner of my eye I see a manager coming over.

"Is there a problem here?" he asks me.

"Yes, " I said, "your clerk here is a bigot. And I'm wondering if that's store policy and if it is, should I contact the press or the ADA?" At the mention of the ADA the manager blanches.

"Bigot? No that's not store policy. Maybe we should go into my office." He wants to move this discussion to a private spot. I don't blame him. I would too.

"No, she is quite comfortable making fun of the blind out here in front of everyone so we should discuss this out in the open." The manager really doesn't want to do this but I'm not budging.

The clerk is now eyeing me with open hostility. "I wasn't making fun of blind people," she says clearly tired from the effort of this interchange.

I mimic her waving of her hand in front of face and tell the manager that she believes that all blind people stumble around and get into things. He is horrified. I can tell he's embarrassed and he'd really like to leave the floor since we have gathered a crowd.

"I wonder," I say calmly, "what the corporate office would think about this...and how they would respond to an inquiry based on discrimination?" Sweat is breaking out on his brow.

"I'm really sorry, and I want to assure you that it is not our policy to be so insensitive to the disabled and I hope you weren't upset by this." He's trying his best I suppose with what he's got, but you know ignorance of the law is no defence for breaking it.

"Well, I can't say I'm upset, it's more a feeling of being royally pissed off. But I am going to leave my purchase here, and go across the street to spend my money. Maybe Ms Sensitive and Intelligent here could help you put it away and the two of you can talk about customer service. I'll decide if I'm going to contact your corporate office later. Thank you for your time." And I left the manager standing there mopping his forehead with a white handkerchief.

~*~

So I've still got more research to do, rest assured I'll be asked the same question again.

What's the average man's tolerance for intrusive questions?

It's a good question...something more people ought to find out for themselves. But I'll go ahead and tell you the answer. Relatively none. He does however have no qualms about asking intrusive questions. Allow me to relate a recent episode from my life to illustrate.





I'm in local mega store with Yeager and I'm minding my own business. I don't seek out contact with strangers ever. Suddenly from behind me I hear "You don't look blind." How's that for an opening to a conversation? Lovely manners don't you think? On my bitchiness scale I was at Stage Two - Dour before this started but his opening gambit pushes me directly to Stage Six - Irascible...a stage that is likely to cause others to feel uncomfortable before the encounter is over.

I spin around to face the voice behind me and see a rather large man standing there with his hands on his hips staring at me.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"You don't look blind." He says, pointing a fat finger at me, closing the distance between us a little.

"Thank you." What else was I supposed to say?

"So," he says undeterred from his mission, "what's the dog for?"

"He helps me when I need it." I do not feel the need to give more information than this. Sometimes I am willing to educate people about service dogs but I don't like this guy's tone of voice so I'm not feeling benevolent.

"What's wrong with ya anyway?" he says eyeing me up and down trying to figure out why I have a dog with me. He is clearly disturbed by not being able to come up with the answer on his own and he wants me to fill him in.

I make a point to stare at his crotch then slowly look into his eyes. He is unnerved by this. He didn't expect it. He is like a mouse under my paw. He just doesn't know it yet.

"How often do you satisfy your wife in bed?" I ask flatly.

He turns a bright shade of red and stammers "Wha? Wha? What?"

"Well, you don't look well-hung so I'm wondering how well you do in bed. Is your wife satisfied you think?" I ask.

He is shifting uncomfortably now, looking at the floor and breathing hard. He was not ready to be asked this question. He didn't expect it.

"Look here Little Girl, I don't know why you'd ask me something like that. Didn't your Mama teach you no manners?" A vein in his neck is throbbing fast.

"Oh," I say, sounding innocent "I thought we were taking turns asking intrusive and rude questions. Was that not the plan?"

He is dumbstruck. He looks at me with a mix of horror and embarrassment. I smile sweetly and ask him if there is anything else he'd like to ask me. He stammers something unintelligible and turns on his heel. He retreats out of sight quickly and I go back to my shopping.

Bitchy? Probably. But there is a breakdown in our society of politeness and manners and while I could have explained that he was over the line and being rude it's unlikely he would have listened. As it was, he will remember that interaction for a long time and maybe the next time he opens his mouth to ask an intrusive question his cheeks will burn a little and he will close his mouth.