On Becoming A Regular

Enter. Walk slowly toward the register.

“Oh hi John! I’ll get that medium coffee for you. I know just how you like it.”

Sometimes, I throw in a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich on Texas toast for good measure. MMM! I did today, in fact.

As time has continued on, I’ve found myself drawn more and more to our friendly neighborhood Dunkin Donuts, and in particular the people who work there.

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One nice young woman always enjoys coming over to my table and making small talk as I chat, I think as a bit of a respite from the long hours of work she puts in. I guess I can’t complain too much about my eight-hour, five-days-a-week job when she might put in 12 hours and sometimes work six days. Man alive, I need to find that kind of drive.

No matter where I relocate, I usually find some place in which I become a sort of regular. In my last independent residence, Carrboro’s Estes Park Apartments, we didn’t have any nearby restaurants or convenience stores I could easily access. So, I often hung out in the leasing office. But hey, they made some of the best tasting coffee I’ve ever had in there. And it was free. Getting to know the staff like that also led to other very necessary perks during those broke days, like letting more than a few late rents slide by and helping with other things like going to the grocery. Even so, I certainly hope I never end up in that kind of crazy situation again.

Of course while there, I did establish regular status in Chapel Hill establishments like Sutton’s, an old-style soda shop that serves hot dogs, burgers, and big, filling breakfasts. I had been going there somewhat frequently even from Durham, until I came to like my current area and its more convenient access more. I have a server in Suttons to whom I enjoy talking, also an incredibly hard worker who routinely puts in six days. I’m not entirely sure we respect enough the people who put food on our tables, well heck we often plain look down on them. This shouldn’t be.

And then, there’s the place with which I think people most associate the idea of “regular”ness, Starbucks. They have one of those on Franklin in Chapel Hill also, but the reason I love it there is it has a local, homely atmosphere. Some of my best writing has happened in there.

Have you become a regular anywhere? If so, what is your typical order. Do the servers know you? I wonder to what degree this happens in other countries. I definitely find it fascinating the slow, predictable way that this credential comes into being.

On Disability and Connection

I’ve been pondering this topic for a while, as I seem to have unending challenges in maximizing or at least maintaining my links to others. At its root, connection is the basis of our humanity. We all want to belong to an organization, form solid romantic and/or friendship relationships, and ensure that our family bonds are strong.

I guess whether we like it or not, we tend often to be defined by what we do. What kind of job/occupation/career do we have?

I suppose not only persons with disabilities but many have a hard time associating with the individuals who might help them get to the place where they would like to be. However, I can say from my own experience and that of some of my friends that those of us with disabilities may grow up never really learning how to accentuate networks, and thus we find it harder to obtain meaningful employment, if any at all.

Fortunately, I think that modern technology is leveling that playing field for kids of this generation. I can’t imagine how different my trajectory would have been if I had Facebook, an iPhone and the like during my formative years.

What this tech is doing for career possibilities, I’m not sure it can do for interpersonal connections. In my experience, there is a bit of a rock-in-a-hard-place thing that happens, and particularly for individuals with clearly visible disabilities.

I have learned my way around almost my entire half-mile neighborhood area, from the leasing office on one end to the restaurant strip containing Dunkin Donuts, Noodles and Company, and other establishments called, I think Pavillion East. It’s a very pleasant spot, especially when the sun is shining and I can grab a coffee and a sandwich and take a seat on the patio.

Anyway, so I might be cruising along thinking to myself and mapping where I am and wish to be.

“Hi sir,” I hear someone say. “May I help you?”

Often, I say no as I don’t actually need assistance at that moment. “But hey, I would like to chat if you’re interested.”

My experience is that people rarely are interested, unless they feel they can fulfill that apparent need. Because of this, I have had relatively few friends without disabilities. More than that even, I’m finding that increasing independence can often lead to increases in isolation, as people have fewer obvious reasons to interact with me. It kind of makes me think of what others have said to me, that we are so often seen only as our disability, and not as a whole person potentially full of interesting traits and yes even character flaws.

I guess the people who are most likely to see us as whole are of course our families. Even as much as they do know though, I have found that many even in my own family are surprised by some of the crazy stuff I enjoy doing.

Actually, I feel fortunate to have the folks around that I do. One problem that is common among folks with disabilities, causing us to sometimes feel a strong urge to act recklessly just to establish our own identity, is that our well-meaning families can be a bit overprotective. I know some, for instance, who have been practically forced to live at home into their 30s, because their parents feared imminent harm if they were unable to track their every move. This sort of thing makes me sad, and I guess I’m just hoping that things continue to improve for all of us as time marches on.

So those are some of my thoughts regarding how persons with disability connect and fit in among society. I suppose things aren’t actually as tough as they could be and have been in the past. I will continue to do my part in helping us all to make gains and understand each other just that little bit more.

GPS? Oh Yes!

So tell me, am I the only oddball with like eight different GPS apps on my iPhone? Well, there’s a lot of practical reason for this. They all do slightly different things, and I can usually benefit from each at its own time.

Google Maps: This one suddenly got a lot better than it had been when I first looked. Now, it’s about on the level of Google’s map on the computer. I love the ease with which I can plug in restaurants and actually view their menus. Also being able to see a comprehensive list of places nearby finally breaks me out of the difficulty I’ve so often had in deciding where we should eat when out with a friend, an issue that has often irked said friends!

Yesterday, in fact, I’d taken a look at a lot of our local eateries as I attempted to decide where I and one of my former grad school classmates would go. I wanted to eat at Piedmont Restaurant, but some of their entrees went for $27! Also, they seemed not to have a whole lot of options. So, I ended up going with Texas Roadhouse. I wanted more of that delicious Country-fried Chicken. She had chosen pulled pork at first, but they’d run out of it. How often does a restaurant run out of one of its main menu items? So she had to settle for barbecue chicken.

And man was it loud in there, and it seemed the servers were celebrating birthdays every 3 minutes. There was also some kind of odd musical performance of which my friend was audibly relieved when it ended.

To get to that restaurant, I opted to use MapQuest. This is because while I like Google Maps for many things, I’m not yet sure how well I trust its directions yet. As I noted when I’d had someone take me to the Greyhound station to begin my Christmas vacation, Google Maps didn’t always tell me whether we were to turn left or right onto major thoroughfares. I figured the less frustration, the better.

Well, sort of. In returning home, I decided to try Seeing Eye GPS, the blindness-specific app about which I wrote back in July. I have to say that it performs a lot better now, I’m guessing due both to the fact that I now have a 4S which is better than a 4, and that they’ve probably made quite a few modifications.

The main reason I’d chosen to use it was that you can just press the button labeled “Go Home,” and it’ll take you to the place you’ve saved in that slot. Figuring out how to tell people this apartment’s address has always vexed me, since half of the people over here aren’t even sure just what it is. I can say just enter at 311 South LaSalle St, which is near the leasing office, and come on back; but sometimes that can throw people not particularly familiar with my neighborhood.

Things went well with that app, for the most part. VoiceOver tends to read most of the information though, and can sometimes oververbalize the street names. Plus I’m not sure it told us which direction we needed to go when getting on 15-501, meaning that we ended up taking one exit up to North Gate Mall, then riding back to my place on street level like the bus does. It was interesting though, because Seeing Eye called out a lot of the area businesses and every street we crossed. She also laughed at the silly sounds it makes: a turn signal when you should turn, and a three-part ascending chime when the next set of directions are to be followed.

I’ve also found out that another app, a free one no less, does a pretty good job at describing street layouts and will even point out local businesses as we pass. This one deals with transit specifically and is called Rider. It comes from a company called Transloc, and it works by connecting with your local transit agency and telling you which buses can be caught in your area. It can even give alerts for up to five minutes before a bus is to arrive at your stop.

I’m not sure with how many agencies this works currently, but they said on Twitter that they’re constantly trying to expand their presence and so if it doesn’t yet work where you are and you want it to, call your agency and ask. I liked the app well enough, though it seemed to be an even bigger battery drain than GPS units usually are. So I’d just have to be juiced up well before boarding if I wanted to use it.

And speaking of battery drain, I’ll talk about my favorite activity to do of probably anything I do with the phone, play with the maps feature on Ariadne GPS. I believe this one is a blindness-specific program too, but I’m not entirely sure on that. In any event, it does work well with VoiceOver. I love putting in cities nearby and farflung and moving my finger around the screen to discover things. It has special sounds that indicate water, very relaxing, a park or more naturalistic setting, also very relaxing, train tracks I think?, and a couple of other sounds indicating things of which I’m not entirely certain. It also, if you move your finger slowly enough, makes the sound of the character walking in what sounds like high heels. I find that amusing.

Because of this app, I finally know the answers to some questions that have always confounded me.

How is the UK laid out? Scotland is to the north of England, Wales to the west, and Ireland across the Irish sea farther to the west. There is also a body of water called the Celtic sea, I think a bit to the south of the Irish sea. Then going east from London is Esses, and to the southeast Dover and the English Channel.

I explored Egypt and its relation to the Red Sea, which lies to the East, and the Mediterranean, which is north of the country. Looking at Japan was interesting, because only the universities were labeled in English. This activity is so fascinating to me though, and when I get wrapped up in it I can go for hours.

A little of my weirdness, but perhaps one of life’s simple pleasures too. I actually hope that some of this information is helpful to other individuals who are blind, or anyone else for that matter. More later.

Christmas Vacation 3: Tampa Landing

I suppose that I am a creature of extreme routine. One of my other requirements when traveling, along with finding and listening to local radio stations, is to eat from a non-chain, local restaurant. Do you know how hard this is getting to be these days?

Saturday morning arrives, and we lazily slide into the day. We have already decided on a place the previous night: a Greek spot who’s name I unfortunately am not able to recall. The online menu indicates a delicious-sounding pita wrap called Chicken Showarma, with garlic sauce.

We step outside, and I am relieved that there is no rain. However, the sun still chooses not to appear. It just refused to show up while I was there.

We take the short cab ride, and arrive at an echoy building that seems to be pretty much otherwise unpeopled. I put my hearing aids into t-coil mode so that I will be able to understand what is being said without the acoustics getting in the way.

We are escorted to a table by a kind woman named Cynthia. I and the other guy order the chicken showarma, and she gets a veggie wrap, understandably preferring a healthier choice after Friday’s frivolity.

The sandwich is as good as I felt it would be. The bread has a rewarding crunch that compliments the meat’s softness. There are also some vegetables, peppers, and that sauce inside. I wash it down with a glass of good, strong lemonade.

I am impressed by this, and by the overall level of service we receive here. I don’t know if they offer dessert, but whatever the case we opt not to eat anything further. Cynthia tells us to wait inside while the cab comes, and lets us know when it arrives. There is a little aggravation as the cabbie assumes that Cynthia would know where we were going, but this matter seems to be quashed relatively quickly.

Once back at the apartments, I go in with her to meet a cat that she says she acquired because he kind of adopted her.

“I was outside, and I heard him meow,” she said. “He rubbed up against my leg and began to pur, and I had to take him in. I was gonna give him to the humane society,… but I got too attached to let him go after a while.”

He began to pur even as I stroked his fur. Very cute.

I finally get to sit outside in the nearly 80 degree day, no coat or sweater and a short-sleeve shirt, to take in more of my book. Is this what caused me to then catch a common cold once I got back home? Probably, but it was still worth it.

She has one of her friends come to take her to a Family Dollar that is within walking distance. I hadn’t realized that Family Dollar actually sells some light groceries, although I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised, as an NPR story noted that nearly all stores are trying to be a little of everything to capture an increasingly fragmented audience.

They get me a delicious bag of smallish cookie-looking things that are covered in chocolate and pretty good! She also gets a box of cereal for Sunday morning and some soda to eat with what we have at night.

I give up on my quest for sunshine once she returns, going back to the guy’s apartment in which I was staying to catch the last of UNC’s bowl game, where they steamrolled the University of Cincinnati in Charlotte. I then just drift until dinner time, nibble on the leftover pizza from Thursday night, play a game of Farkle within the Dice World iPhone app with her, and bed down pretty early. This is because she has a headache, and he has come down with a stomach bug. I count myself fortunate that I don’t seem to have caught that yet.

Sunday morning departure comes pretty early, at 7:40 precisely. Before that though, my bag of toiletries grows legs and disappears. Given that none of us three has working eyes, I don’t even begin to try and relocate the darn things again. The Super Shuttle’s arrival windo had been 740-7:55, and they get there at the beginning of said. We bid adieu, and I am off.

Going To Carolina, Not in My Mind Audio

The flight leaves at 10:10 AM, and this time I am boarded first. I believe that is because I have the preboarding sleeve, whereas I’d had my new friend print the pass at the check-in kiosk back at RDU. I forgot to mention that that involved a harrowing search through my endless plastic cards for my ID, which I finally, happily, located.

I choose the second seat back from the first row of coach, and settle in. A couple sits beside me, the woman right next to me telling me that they are bound to see their grandkids in smalltown Wake County. They will return the next night. I get coffee this time, and am surprised that it is hot and tastes fresh.

This flight has WiFi for $8, which I feel isn’t worth it for an hour and a half flight, and free TV offered by the Dish satellite company. You are supposed to be able to watch this programming on a mobile device like a smartphone or tablet, but I can’t actually get the TV to work. The woman beside me finds it hard on her iPad as well, but she hadn’t initially realized that if airplane mode is on, she’d have to enable WiFi to access the Internet. We do enjoy viewing the flight tracker, which tells us how high we are, quickly we’re going, and much time remains. It even gives the current heading. It kind of feels like having GPS.

She tells me that she works for the largest clinic on the west coast of Florida, supporting, I think, 125 doctors. She and her husband also have a nice place right on the water.

Yeah, I don’t do cold weather,” she says on one of the reasons their stay in North Carolina will be so short.

“Where are you from originally,” I ask.

“Connecticut.”

Her husband keeps insisting that he wasn’t looking forward to it either, leading her to try and convince him to just suck it up it for a bit.

And Now We Land (Audio)

This is the first flight I’ve taken since the regulations regarding when electronic equipment can be used, and so I decide to capture what to me are interesting sounds of the coming in and going out. I wish I had left it rolling a bit longer when we touch down, so that perhaps I could have captured the welcome message from the flight attendant. My seatmate says there is a fairly steady rain falling as we make contact with the runway.

By the time I get off though, the rain has largely ended. A perky agent assists me to baggage claim, where it takes a minute to gather my things. Once I do though, we make our way towards the sliding doors, and I slide into the waiting cab with my driver. How convenient that is. She’s the kind of person to whom I only need to occasionally say “uh-huh,” and she’ll keep chatter rolling along. That’s fine with me.

And that largely ends my trip to Tampa Florida. I think this trip showed me that I’ve gained some ability to network, and am a bit better at getting myself where I want to be. Without a doubt, my iPhone certainly has done a lot to improve that. As we make our way into 2014, I think I may have another trip already taking shape. I’ll be back with more on that though once it fully develops.

Christmas Vacation 2: Tampa Takeoff

It seemed for most of it that this year would be one in which I remained grounded. No air travel. If that had happened, it would’ve been the first time since 2011 and only the second since prior to August of 2004. I can’t really say what it is about air travel that I find so evocative and desirable, but I suppose it has to do with the likelyhood of meeting new and fascinating people. Plus, that initial feeling of flight is matched by few other things.

One thing I have done frequently this year is ride the rails. I made round trip Amtrak trips to Charlotte in March, late June, late July, mid September, and Thanksgiving. On the Thursday following Christmas, I make my way onboard the packed Charlotte/Raleigh run for the last time in 2013, so that I can get back to Raleigh/Durham International Airport for my flight to Tampa Florida.

I do meet someone on this trip. I at first think she is a kid, but as I listen to her voice, I am actually not able to determine her age. She says she’s knitting a sweater that will be her own.

She first tells me that she generally likes to stay quiet, and then that she is going to sleep. I get the hint, though she’d said that I hadn’t been bugging her when first chatting, and pull out my phone to read and tweet for the duration of the trip.

In Durham, after debating with myself for a time, I opt to have my taxi driver to take me home so that I can swap out the giant bag of clothes I’d taken to Charlotte for a leaner set more suitable to warm climates. I also take out bulky items from my carry-on, so that it can slide comfortably under the seat in front of me.

My driver and I have agreed on a departure time to the airport of 4:15, as I have a 7:30 flight and she doesn’t wish to battle rush hour traffic in trying to get me there. I am not surprised though that she is already sitting outside at 4. She doesn’t play around when it comes to time, and works hard to make sure that her loyal customers get to where they need to be when they need to be. She kind of canned someone that had been working under her, because that person opted to take someone else home from the megabus when she was to take me after my DC trip. I really do respect that and her.

At the airport, the driver pairs me with another passenger so that she can skidaddle back to her cab before she is ticketed. I enjoy conversing with this passenger, who is going to Chicago, as we inch our way through the line toward the check-in kiosk. She says that she runs her own business, and suggests that people like her do have a need for folks who are learning to build websites, as I am. I’m always relieved to hear this. We exchange contact info and part ways before reaching the security line.

At the line, I make the mistake while attempting to take off my shoes of leaning against the pole that brackets the scanner, setting it off. I probably nearly cause a security breech, but all ends well. I am through and to the departures lounge fairly quickly after this.

I had already decided that I would purchase something to eat, in what I now call the price-gouging area. For a not-so-big cheese burger and perhaps 15 fries, I pay an insane $10! But, it does hold me for a little while.

After a slight delay, about which I learned through the Southwest Airlines iPhone app, we begin the somewhat chaotic boarding process. I thought before doing this that I wouldn’t like the idea of not having assigned seats, but actually it is nice as I can then choose the exact configuration I prefer: a right-side window seat. This optimizes the chances that I will be able to hear the passenger sitting next to me.

Prepare for Takeoff: Audio

A man chooses to sit beside me, not saying much other than to alert me that the flight attendant has arrived for beverage service. I get some sprite, often a bad idea but not too punishing to the bladder this time. I just recline a bit and disappear into my story until we arrive.

Once on the ground in Tampa, I have an agent escort me to the Super Shuttle counter, where I have reserved my ride to my friend’s apartment via their very usable iPhone app. I am informed that my wait for a van will be 30 minutes, but in actuality it’s about 5-7. I certainly wouldn’t have minded anyway.

As usual, I play with Ariadne GPS as we bounce through town, myself and a female and male passenger. Everyone else is quiet. My friend resides in the Northeastern corner of the city, not far from the University of South Florida, and the airport is in the Southwest. So, it’s about a 20-minute ride.

I meet my friend, actually they are also a male and female, in the guy’s place. They stay within walking distance with each other, and so visit quite often. They hook me up with a couple of slices of pizza hut’s Stuffed Crust, and we chat deep into the night about any and everything. This is my second time visiting them, as I had also done so while they resided in Flint, Michigan. They are fun.

Friday finds me rested on a couch bed, again after a night of odd dreams. I think I dream oddly whenever I’m not in my own bed. I awake a little after 8 to listen to local radio and some of NPR’s Weekend Edition on Tampa’s NPR affiliate, WUSF.

I shower, and then we venture out into the rainy day to acquire some food. We choose to go to Steak and Shake (Audio), because it is relatively close by. In addition to the mentioned chili cheese dog and fries, I also have a big, strawberry and banana milk shake. She chooses a brownie shake on recommendation of our server, and he opts not to have a shake at all. I think he polishes hers off, though.

I can’t come to Florida without spending some time outside. I try to on Friday, playing with the phone for about 45 minutes, but eventually give in to the gloom. While it is definitely warmer than in North Carolina, the lack of sunshine means that it is still a bit on the cool side. So, I spend the rest of that day inside, listening to Bowl games and having more food, this time a sausage pepper trio sub from Domino’s. I am fine with this, as I wanted mostly to unwind and unburden myself.

I will wrap up my Tampa trip in a subsequent entry. And then, hopefully, I’ll wrap up 2013! I guess that’ll likely happen on New Year’s Day, but we shall see.

Christmas Vacation 1: The Party

Well, this has been as good a vacation from work and holiday season as I could have expected. I am sad that there remain only three more whole days before I must return to the routine that has defined my existence for the better part of a year, but hopefully I will feel revived for having this experience.

During this last week plus, I’ve ridden in several cars, a Greyhound bus, an Amtrak train, and a Southwest Airlines plane. Now that’s the kind of travel I long for nearly all the time. Since everything preceeding my Tampa trip, which happened from this Thursday till Sunday, is basically standard; I’ll give a quick sumary of that. Then I’ll cover the trip in greater detail, perhaps in more than one entry.

Last Saturday, the 21st of December, gives me kind of a Florida preview weatherwise. In fact, it probably ends up being a better weather day than I even saw once traveling down south.

After making a fairly short journey to Fayetteville by bus, (Audio from aboard, I arrive and am taken to a small town near Lumberton to celebrate the second straight Christmas party with one of my good friends. Before leaving the Ville, we stroll along and do some window shopping, where I and the individual who has come to get me acquire trinkets for the gift exchange.

Because I am hungry, I opt to get two burrito supremes from Taco Bell as we make our way toward the country. Then, I sit outside chattering with my cousin and a couple of other folks around a stone picnic table at our host’s house while many others go back out to do some quick shopping. We marvel at the openness of that area, and how it doesn’t really block the incessant winds as a place with more buildings would.&lt

We stay out there till the rest of the party returns, then make our way inside where we remain for the rest of the day. Other than participating in the affore mentioned gift exchange, I eat a meal of spaghetti with meat, meatballs, and sausage balls. I also enjoy some homemade peanut butter type cookies from the host.

At the wrap of that evening, we took a couple of fun photos of us all, some being silly and some just sitting in neat rows on the couches and chairs. I think you should be able to see the one I posted on Facebook there. I enjo myself at this gathering, mostly just catching up with people who are becoming and some who had already been firm friends.

Sunday is another early riser, though I have managed to sleep well on the couch after having weird dreas. This time, my cousin, his wife, and I head to another rural town of Pinebluff, where my mom, next eldest sister, and some of my nieces and nephews reside.

Well actually, we first go to First Missionary Baptist Church in Southern Pines to attend service there. As they often do, our pastor opts for a fairly short, uplifting Christmas cermon. He mainly talks about the idea that we should find ways to cheer ourselves up during the holiday season, even if it involves bouncing around to some jazzy Christmas music. I am all for that, mainly feeling pleased that I have found ways to avoid the loneliness that often does plague me at this time of year.

I spend the following week in Charlotte, mainly because I need the transportation flexibility to ensure that I’ll be able to get to my flight on Thursday afternoon.

On Monday, my cousin and I watch bowl games and commiserate about life for most of it. My cousin then accompanies his wife on Tuesday to her parents’ house for a party. During this time, I decide to try and catch a differet movie from one I’d ever seen, taken from a rather comprehensive collection of described content. I pick The Book of Eli, but eventually shelf it as there seems to be endless violence and I am unable to understand the point. It’s a post-apocalyptic thriller in which someone is trying to hunt down and recover some important text that will save humanity.

Tuesday night is given to going to another party, this one a dinner breakfast that another of our longtime friends usually hosts. I post Audio of me unwrapping a gift I got from this party, which I now believe is a set of handcuffs. I can’t say I know what the meaning behind that is, but it gives us a good laugh.

Wednesday, Christmas, is a simple affair. We all have breakfast around the table, then head into the living room in my Aunt and cousin’s place for the gifting gathering. My youngest male cousin gets some nice stuff from his parents and girlfriend. I think my older cousin and his wife get something for nearly everyone, hooking me up with an iTunes and an Amazon gift card. And yes, I will do something for them. My aunt and uncle also help me with some dough to help with trip expenses. I, on the other hand, give to the charity that has helped me a lot in getting from that failed graduate school experience to where I am now, the Community Empowerment Fund. Their primary mission is to assist people who have become or are in danger of experiencing homelessness. I dig this. And I think I should promote the nonprofit organization that is doing research and working to strengthen support for those with my disorder, the Norrie Disease Association, to whom I shall give also. Being a board member of myself, I am well aware of the work we are trying to do.

I go with my Aunt to dinner at some other family members’ house, where I again eat only to capacity as I had on Thanksgiving. Then I just sit and take in the NBA games amidst the swirling mass of humanity.

And that’s about all for this entry. I will chronicle the happenings of my nice, relaxing Tampa vacation in an upcoming post.

DC On Air 3, Meetings and Marching Home

Friday:

Today starts early, as I take a quick listen to more local programming and hit the showers by 7 AM. I’d thought about opting for late check-out, but decide that I may as well just drag my bags to the couple of places I’d be going. It’s not like they are particularly heavy.

I make my way down to the second floor and am checked out by a guy who then claims he doesn’t even work at the hotel. This makes me a little nervous, but I guess all is well as there don’t seem to have been any further ramifications. I’d located my bill inside of my room just prior to departure, and so had only to drop off the room key at the desk anyway.

Then downstairs to await the first of my two meetings with long-time twitter friends. She shows up at 8, and we walk the few steps outside to one in a small chain of French sandwich shops called Au Bon Pain.

I opt for a delicious cinnamon pastry, and a cup of French vanilla coffee. This brings me around as we make small talk, I enjoying the never-fading novelty of hearing one’s voice in person after months of following them exclusively online. Actually, I’d heard her once before via a podcast to which I often listen, but she sounds different to me even than in that recording.

She needs to head back to work, so after about a half hour we walk back to the hotel’s ground floor waiting area. I don’t really call it a lobby, since it doesn’t even have a restroom. The lobby is basically on the second floor. I speak to the woman who works behind the counter about this, and she tells me that the hotel had been opened only 5 years ago. I’m surprised they opted to construct it in this way.

While awaiting my next meeting at sometime around 11, I sit in the chair and listen to that woman have a number of conversations with other guests. I also send and receive messages on my iPhone, while a man who works at some sort of major tech company watches.

“How do you use that,” he asks. “Does it talk to you?”

I pull out the headset and let him hear VoiceOver.

“See, I’ve been trying to convince the folks at my company that we need to make sure our products are usable by, people… people like… can I say?..”

“Yes, you can say blind people,” I tell him. I kind of understand his hesitancy regarding that, given that it can be a challenge to not use words that might inadvertently offend. While I am all for making sure to speak of people in the best way possible, I know at least when it comes to me I usually accept that maybe someone isn’t fully aware of which phrases are appropriate. The intent, the knowledge that we might wish to use mainstream products and can benefit from them, is more important in my opinion.

Eventually he departs to run further errands, and I settle back in to read. My next person arrives at around 11:30, and we go back to the same restaurant as before. Only at this time of course, I choose for a more lunch-type item. The chicken sandwich, with what I think was an unusual kind of cheese, is pretty good and filling. She has a broccoli soup that she says does not taste good at all. I knew it would be interesting to talk to her, because of her love of travel and the kind of work she does in blogging and social media. She is also deaf, but could understand me pretty well. Given that both of our lesser ear is the right, it makes trying to find a workable configuration for conversation a little fun. I do thoroughly enjoy the chatter, though.

She resides in the DC area, and so knows the Metro system well. I thus ask her if she can take me back to Union Station, only a stop away, so that I can go ahead and await the Megabus there. We actually take an escalator up higher to hop into the subway car, which then makes its way underground as it approaches Union Station. This is my first time in the DC subway since 2000, and my first on a subway period since 07. The major urban transit nerd in me will always find this exciting.

Once we arrive, she suggests that I wait downstairs in the Amtrak lounge, because the seats are more comfortable and it has WiFi. But once she shows me where the Megabus will board, I opt to stay on that level and in the other waiting room she finds. I somewhat regret this, as the air smells heavily of pain, but in the end all is well.

I get in there at approximately 1:10, and don’t depart until nearly 3:20 once my bladder begins to rebel. I flag someone down who helps me find a restroom, then choose to sit on a bench outside, even closer to the roaring buses but free of the nose-numbing smell of that room. I inform someone else that I wanted to board the bus that leaves at 4:15, and so suddenly at 3:50 my bag just disappears from under my leg.

“Time to go,” that person then says.

Um, you could have warned me first, pal. I’m thinking someone is stealing my luggage!

Tweet Signpost: So long to our nation’s capital. It’s been real.

I press my nose to the window as my sightless eyes take one last look at the city and the GPS names off streets. We pass by the Verizon Center, Constitution Gardens, and the National Mall before making that bone-jarring bounce back onto the bridge, over the river, and away.

I talk to my seatmate for a few minutes, finding out that she will stay in Durham on Friday night then be picked up by friends for a fun weeklong trip to Wilmington. Then she informs me that she wishes to sleep, so I fall silent and pull out the entertainment boxes.

Not much of note happens for the rest of the trip home. We pull into Durham Station shortly after 9:30, pretty much on time. I am somewhat dismayed to learn that my cabbie hasn’t in fact shown up. She sends someone else after me, mainly so that person could get some money and experience in picking up loyal clients. Only that person decides it’d be nicer to get a big fare, securing a couple of Raleigh trips right off of that bus. So my usual cabbie hears about this, becomes somewhat upset, and makes her way back across town to get me. But by this point, I have gone ahead and hopped into the van that was to take my seatmate to her hotel, with us splitting the fare. I badly need to use the restroom, and the facilities inside of that bus station have been shut for the night. After procuring fast-food, as I know my refrigerator is all but empty, I finally, mercifully arrive home.

And that is the end of a fun trip to DC, during which some light networking especially within NPR may have occurred. One thing that organizing this did show me is that if one wants something enough and knows the right people, one can make it happen. This is a really important lesson for me to keep in mind at all times.

There is some degree of irony perhaps in my journey taking place just before the 50th anniversary of MLK’s March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom occurred. As I’ve pondered this over the last few days, I wonder if and to what extend persons with disabilities played a role in that march. I guess not all that much? I have heard of some powerful civil rights protest by individuals with disabilities, though, and just as with many minority groups in this country, much progress has been made but much remains to be done. We’re here though, our faces will be seen, and we will continue to push for more! Join me?

On Friendship and Fantasy

Just plugging along, not a whole lot to see here. But, I know it’s high time for me to put finger to plastic key again and find something to talk about.
I suppose the most interesting occurrence has been the solidifying of a friendship at work. I’ve really gotten to know the guy to whom I referred a few entries back, as we continue to sit beside each other in our old section. We can sit there having deep talks about forbidden topics such as politics and religion, then start singing for the next hour or so. It really does make the workday go by a lot more quickly and enjoyably.
I know people have often said that this is an important reason why persons with disabilities should be employed: to really get that chance to connect with and become a part of a community. I certainly hadn’t thought I’d experience that in my current setting, though.
That connection is nice, but it demonstrates to me how few other such venues I have outside of the workplace. As the temperatures have climbed here, many of my friendly neighbors are choosing to remain inside and under the AC. I suppose I can’t blame them there, but it means I really need to find the neighborhood watering hole or something, someplace where I can go to party or just let loose for a while.
One would think I’d have found such a place after nearly half a year. Half a year already! I can’t believe I’ve been in Durham that long, as I can still clearly remember sliding on dangerous ice that pelted down relentlessly that cold, late January day.
Perhaps the biggest reason why I’ve kind of lived on the outside looking in here is that I’m a creature of habit. First, of course, I mostly just turn to my online friends for conversation. This is fine, but lacks some critical component as I’m re-discovering by my burgeoning work friendship.
Secondly, I still like to spend a lot of my off time in Chapel Hill, primarily because being in that environment makes me feel revitalized. I think though that the c-change is beginning, and soon enough this area will truly feel like home.
I want to close by offering support to an author who has crafted a book that very much explores issues surrounding friendship and disability. This book, called The Heart of Applebutter Hill, was written by Donna W. Hill, who I think has some degree of blindness herself. It seems to be a young adult fantasy piece featuring a 14-year-old blind girl named Abigail and her close male friend Baggy as main characters. Abigail’s guide dog Curly Connor, usually referred to as the “Fluffer-noodle” is also prominently featured.
During the school year, Abigail lives in a town called Applebutter Hill after having been banned from her previous locale due to a number of complicated societal reasons. She has to spend the summer with a family called the Blusterbuffs, (that’s another thing I like about this book, the strange names), because her primary guardian has left town to attend to some other business.
This story asks one to expand what one believes in, bringing back some of the magic of childhood imagination. For instance, the two main characters encounter a transportation vehicle that seems to be a sort of flying boat, and are informed that only they can see and interact with it. They also meet and take in an acorn that can expand and turn into a small man who can walk around on tiny legs.
I haven’t read the whole story yet, in fact I’m kind of just reaching the halfway point as I make my halting way along while on bus rides to and from work. But it is clear that these individuals will find adventure, get themselves into and out of troublesome situations, and generally grow closer as the story progresses. I obtained a copy from Smashwords for just $6.99, and I’d definitely say it was worth it. The writing is excellent, and one very quickly becomes swept away from mundane reality and into this interesting and unusual world. Also I’ve seen somewhere that the author uses proceeds from this book to help people gain access to Braille in areas where it might not otherwise be possible, a very worthy cause in my opinion. So check it out.

Graduation Weekend

I’m sitting on my porch as the wind blows lightly. There was, I suppose, a fairly significant storm as I slumbered an accidental 3 hours on this Saturday afternoon, but then I suppose that such slumbers are what weekends are for.
So, this is graduation weekend, the one on which I would have completed my studies at the University of North Carolina if I’d managed to survive. I’ve been reflecting some on that, even as I celebrated with others on making it to that milestone.
First, my cousin and his fiancé came up to attend her hooding ceremony. Hooding? Yep, that’s what one gets upon completing a Ph.D. Wow, I have a lot of respect for one who can actually follow through with that.
I hadn’t realized that the “hood” was kind of a robe-like thing that one drapes over the shoulders. When she put it on me, I joked that her power had been transferred to me. DR. Miller!
“No, I want that back,” she said.
Then, I have the pleasure of attending a party thrown for one of my friends who has just received her bachelor’s degree. One of the nicest people I’ve known, she as part of the Community Empowerment Fund, an agency that especially helps people in the Durham/Chapel Hill area avoid homelessness, worked with me for much of 2012. She taught me some basic job skills and helped to improve my confidence when conducting the search. When I considered volunteering at UNC Hospitals, an idea that never quite worked out due to financial constraints sadly, she walked me to and from the place I would need to go a few times in summer heat until I got it. She and another person pitched in to assist me in moving my heavy furniture from my previous apartment into storage right before I headed off to PineBluff in September. And finally, she’s just a great friend who cares. It’s kind of a shame I lost my entries on the 2012 experience, or else I’d link up to them.
Anyway, I meet some of her family at this party after having been transported there by another awesome CEF personality. The host house is in Chapel Hill, but I think in Chatham County. The setting is idyllic: a nice deck outside that allows us to be splashed in sunshine, a long, curving gravel driveway, and separation from other houses by some woods. I can’t help thinking to myself that this would be a wonderful place from which to read and write, although perhaps I could get a little lonely out there.
They have food, including turkey sausages, a mix of fruits, m&m’s, and coffeecake. We eat this while chattering and being entertained by some kids who put on an impromptu jump rope show. Ah, I remember the days of doing that sort of thing. I don’t even know if I can get this long, lanky body off of the ground now.
And so this has made for a nice weekend thus far. The best part of it is getting to hang out and spend time with family and friends, and I hope that continues. I’ve kind of felt that the writing well is dry regarding my personal life these days, thus a greater participation in entries dealing with a specific topic or observance. But I wanted now to let people in a bit on how I’m feeling and what’s going on here. There will be more soon, I’m sure.
To all of you receiving any kind of degree this weekend or in the coming months, I offer my congratulations. Go forth and shake the world!