Enough

Seriously, what's wrong with MSNBC lately? On Countdown tonight, Aisha Tyler made a crack about it being easy to be a rockstar when everyone else in the room is wearing a helmet and drooling on themselves. What's with the disability hate?

Join me in writing to Steve Capus, Chairman of NBC News: NBCUniSupport@nbcuni.com

Tell them that bias against people with disabilities is never acceptable.

Go ahead, take the other arm

While I commend Rachel Maddow for being one of the only talking heads to even mention the "one-armed midget" remark made my Michael Steele, this is the reason I do not normally watch her show:

Ana Marie Cox: And I also don't think that Steele or Palin have yet to come up with a kind of call that would attract people to want to be part of their movement. Michael's Steele's most specific, uh, you know, thing he's said to date was that he would welcome one-armed midgets into the party. Which I believe, you know, he can have 'em. I mean, not to be, I'm also, you know, I am not biased on that at all.
Rachel Maddow: You are also trying to reach out in that direction.
AMC: I also, with, with one hand.
RM: giggle!

Oh yeah, not biased at all. It doesn't show bias at all to joke that you're reaching out with one hand in "that" direction or to attempt to show you're so up with the gimp class by allowing the GOP to "have 'em."

I am disgusted. I don't usually watch Rachel Maddow's show because she too often indulges in outrageous fallacious thinking and hyperbole; far more so than anyone else on her "side." I find that to be divisive and unproductive. But this little exchange goes beyond even that; this funny little tidbit shows that, yet again, the disabled are there for the able bodied to poke and laugh at when they need a target. I'm sick of it.

There will be people who think this is too sensitive, that it takes things too seriously; you have the right to think/say that. However, I deal in the world of words and I know what it does to people to be singled out as a group for inferiority time and time again. You probably know what that feels like, too. Now just imagine that you are in the group where it is still thought acceptable to call us names, to literally push us around and to do all you can to make sure we are marginalized in society. Imagine the outcry if Cox and Maddow had been talking about African Americans. You and I both know the above back and forth will not get any attention and you and I also know that if it had been about African Americans the outcry would be enormous. As well it should be.

Let me ask you this: have you done anything to support disability equal rights? I've joined groups to support equality for all, regardless of sexuality and color, though I do not tend to be discriminated against for either. But have you joined us, have you supported us? Do you care that when we protest we're told we're being too sensitive, too "PC," but when you protest you're simply trying to assure your own equal rights? Has it ever occurred to you that denying physical access to goods and services, as many, many businesses do for the disabled, is just as wrong as telling people they are not allowed to marry or they cannot ride in the front of the bus?

What are you going to do about it? Do you really support equality for all, or only for your group? I hope you realize that equality belongs to all of us and isn't just a catch phrase that we can put into writing or legislation then forget about it. If you do realize that, then write to Rachel Maddow and Anne Marie Cox and tell them that they need to acknowledge their crass remarks and apologize.

Here's Rachel Maddow's Facebook page.

Here's Ana Marie Cox's blog.

It is not acceptable to use others to promote your own agenda. Ever. Those two women should know better and so should all of us. We're human, we're multiplied by difference, and we damn well better recognize that before we paint ourselves into lonely corners of "this is me" and "that is them." Enough, already.

Picture credit, and a doughnut to anyone who gets it.

I ask you...

Why is it never as simple as, "Hey! I think I'll transplant the aspidistras today!"?

When will I learn to double check the area where I plan to transplant plants for digging necessity before digging up plants that are already in the damn ground?

How is it possible that I still don't know my digging limit and will continually push past it, only to suffer the consequences later?

Who thinks it is a good idea to tape a whole bunch of cotton candy to a 20-foot pole and stand across the street from an elementary school?

What is it about seeds and peat pots that turns cats into raving lunatics with their heads about to pop off?

Where am I going to put all of the plants that damn well better sprout from those stupid little peat pots?

Picture credit Seriously, do yourself a favor and visit this photographer's photostream. She will take you places you've only dreamed of in your limited philosophy.

Buddy can you spare an arm?

Just read it:

"But, he elaborated with a laugh, 'we need to uptick our image with everyone, including one-armed midgets.'"

WTF was Michael Steele thinking? Obviously, he was thinking that this little quip was appropriate because he is better than people who would find such a thing ridiculous. You'd have to be a moron not to know that people would find it offensive; you have to be an arrogant ass not to care that in using it you will degrade more than one group of people. This is the man the GOP chose to lead them? Nice.

You can rail against "political correctness" all you want, and chances are good I'll agree with your railing if it is directed at the concept itself; but let's not forget that there are things that we don't say, perhaps even think, not because they aren't politically correct, but because they are wrong. Even putting aside the term "one-armed midgets," we must still ask why a man who has benefited from the struggle for freedom as much as any of us would use a person's disabilities as a way to demonstrate the absurd, to demonstrate the hyperbolic nature of politics itself. Let's not kid ourselves about this: Michael Steele knew that he was participating in the theatre of pernicious absurdity when he brought "hip hop" into the interview to begin with; to take it to an even higher level of derisive parody was more than cynical, it was disgustingly arrogant. Please spare me your protestations of innocence on Steele's part on the mockery of little people, or the disabled in general. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together would get the implication.

You know, I'm used to people making fun of the disabled and blaming us for their own problems. Let me give you a recent example: I went to a grocery store called Central Market on Superbowl Sunday. Obviously, it was quite crowded; unfortunately, this store also happens to have the tiniest aisles I've ever seen at a grocery store and a definite lack of parking. So, after waiting behind a woman who refused to move from the middle of the parking aisle to let people pass as she waited for several different people to walk up the aisle to their cars (none of whom got into cars on that aisle!) I had the joy of trying to navigate the take-out food counter. Yeah, I get that it was crowded and people were in a hurry to purchase their Szechuan style green beans for their Superbowl parties, but was it necessary for someone to try to knock me down when I went to get a number for the counter? Was it necessary for someone else to look at me, look at my crutch, then twist their face into a grimace while making that universal half clearing of the throat, half "ugh" sound of disgust? and was it necessary for several people to attempt to shove me out of the way to get to something they wanted because I was being too slow for their tastes? No, no and no. This was concentrated offensive behavior.

I get that it's frustrating to be behind someone who is slow when you are trying to get somewhere. I am notoriously bad for having road rage (though it is much better now) and I know that when you are focused on a goal a gimp getting in the way is annoying. I know this, believe me. But I also know that I can't help being slow, just like you can't help not having been born with a genetic disorder that could have caused disability. How nice for you. Seriously, I'm glad about that. What I do not understand, though, is this idea that because someone is disabled, whether by accident or birth, they are the easy go-to target for derision and blame. I know I'm asking a lot of questions, but I am truly perplexed by the idea that a man who has the benefit of education and the knowledge that his words matter would so cavalierly throw us under the bus. Even more stunning is the fact that I would bet most of the people who read this post will not have heard about the comment. We are, after all, only the detritus of a wreck of a meaningful life. How else do you account for our obvious satirical merit?

Some things I get, some things I do not.

Picture credit

So long old friend

I have to remove this picture because it is simply making me too sad. Thank you all for the condolences.

Don't mind me, I'm just digging this hole

It's that time again, the time you all have been looking forward to, I am sure. My leardening (new word I just made up to indicate garden learning) continues apace.

It might be a good idea to find out before you start building a backyard enclosure if you get to bring the penguin your husband adopted for you for Valentine's day home with you.

I am no longer the craziest neighbor on the block. Our next door neighbors have split up and are constantly screaming at each other on the phone. Outside.

It's very difficult not to be dragged into neighbor conflicts when you are always.outside.no.matter.what.

It might be true that yelling SONOFABITCH! at a new outbreak of Vinca Major is best done when there are not three police cars and six policemen across the street in the school parking lot.

It turns out that mulch is really, really, really, really expensive. This fact necessitated a change of plan. Again.

When a person who is representing a respected environmental institution mentions "invasive species," it might not be the best idea to loudly sigh in disgust and declare that you "know all about invasive species." This is especially true when the meeting in which this comment is made is a faculty meeting and every faculty member in attendance is a biologist or ecologist. Well, every faculty member but me, of course.

It's a good thing black hollyhocks are so lovely. Otherwise, I'd be bummed that I forgot that I had already ordered black hollyhock seeds and ordered some more.

Other people do not appreciate being called over to watch the "really long and really fast" worm make its way back to the soil you have just plucked it from. Other people might mistakenly think they have better things to do.

It might be better not to spend too long trying to figure out if it was a compliment or an insult when your neighbor tells you he is glad not to be the only "oddball" on the block. It makes one appear like an oddball to stand in the middle of the yard weighing the possibilities out loud.

I really don't know who the man is who constantly screeches his SUV to a halt to tell me that I am making him tired from all of the work I am doing. It happens two or three times a week. He yelled something about leaves in his beds at me the other day.

I think that's enough for now. I will take some pictures soon and post the progress. Things are all shiny and black in our yard right now. Oooooweeeeeeeeeeoooooooooo! drama!

Picture credit

Hell hath no fury like a frozen POC

I can't believe I'm going to do this, but, well... I am. I'm going to give a teensy bit of perspective to Christian Bale's on set meltdown. I am not a huge fan of actors (other than my cousin who is the bee's knees), but I have to say that I think people are not understanding a few things with that rant. Seriously, I can't believe I'm going to defend an actor.* Anyway...

Anyone walking on set when a scene is being filmed is an amateur. I don't care how long you've been in the business, you do.not.do.that. Ever. Bale mentions that this guy did it twice and the DP certainly was trying to excuse his actions with a certain amount of insolence when Bale went off on him. Now, let me state without any equivocation: there is NO excuse for the way Bale treated that DP. He should not have berated him in front of others and he should not have used such hateful language. However, he was right in his objection to the DP's actions. A DP is rather high up in responsibility and respect on the set, so the fact that someone with that much supposed influence and experience did such a thing is really terrible. I could be wrong, but it indicates an arrogance on the DP's part; he was probably thinking that because he is the big shot DP, he can do whatever he wants. He's the shooter! he has clout! It could be true that he needed a stern talking to and it is UNBELIEVABLE that the director didn't keep this guy in check.

Another thing to keep in mind is that Bale wasn't just going off on the guy while everyone stood around waiting for him to finish. This tirade was compounded by the fact that once filming stops, things need to be reset, perhaps wardrobe or make up/hair needs to come in and tweak here or there. He mentioned needing someone to come back and put something back on him, twice. So, the standing around and waiting would be happening, but not because of Bale's meltdown. I think that compounds the frustration because you can't just go somewhere else, you're all stuck in a confined space waiting for the loader to reload or lights to be fixed, or the dolly to be taken back, or set dressing to be replaced, or any number of things.

This has to be hard on Bale to have this spread around and lampooned. His mother has used this opportunity to garner some attention and sympathy for her plight with Bale; what kind of a mother does that? The first AD has come out in defense of Bale, explaining that it was the most emotional scene in the film. Again, I don't condone his actions, but you can understand how someone who is having to tap into deep reserves of emotion and is suddenly forced to leap out of it by a jarring experience would have an emotional reaction. We've all done it. Actually, I am rather ashamed of the one time I went off on someone on set and I wish I could apologize to him. He took it well and the problem never occurred again, but I should not have done it. Why did I do it? I had been working 20 hour days, 6 days a week, I had a PM from HELL who made everyone's life miserable and it was a bonehead mistake that was going to force me to lose what precious sleep I was getting. None of that excuses my behavior, but it certainly puts it into perspective. That's all I am trying to do with Bale's meltdown: give it a little bit of perspective.

And now, I go into battle with a clear conscience. I battle the vagaries of fate and dastardly deeds. I battle ivy.

*It's just a crew/actor thing and it doesn't apply to all actors; just the ones who are jerks.

Picture credit

I....no..... um.... yeah....

I found another ivy plant.

Why me? Why?

All garden paths lead here

This blog started out on a very, very different path. If I had to wager, I'd say that most of the people who read this blog today did not read it when I first started writing it, and vice versa. I tried to start a blog four years ago, called "Yeah, Yeah, Whatever," but I could not find anything of interest (to me) to write about. When I started this blog, it was originally called "Transplanterrific," and was to follow me through the process of a stem cell transplant. The transplant didn't happen and I am glad for it but it left me sort of lost on what to write about. I changed the name to "Strokegirl" for awhile, but that never seemed to fit me. It was to detail my life as a stroke patient, which just seemed boring. Finally, I started writing about what I was thinking about at the moment; that was when I found my true voice and lost most of my blog readers! Hey, I know I'm long winded and boring. The point of this shuffle down memory lane is to wonder a-blog whether I should update you all on health concerns. I know there are still many original readers to this blog, which gives me pause about ignoring the topic completely. I haven't been entirely forthcoming on that front, as of late.

I don't remember who it was that told me I should start a transplant blog; I suspect it was someone whom I knew from Delphi, the forum platform I was frequenting at the time. It was through Delphi that I met my dear friend, Suz. I've been thinking about her a lot today for some reason. Forgetting the person who suggested the transplant blog reminds me of forgetting to acknowledge the gift of CDs that Suz sent me when we were first getting to know each other. She worked at an independent music label at the time and she had so kindly sent me some of their CDs. It was odd that I didn't remember to tell her I got them and thank her profusely, but I didn't. The thought of that actually gives me a feeling of panic right now because the thought of forgetting to say thank you for a gift is abhorrent to me. Suz will wonder what on earth I am talking about and I know she doesn't care one wit about that forgetting. And yet, I suspect I forget to thank people for gifts frequently. It's difficult not to give in to despair over that realization, but it is futile to do so, now or ever. The forgetting isn't willful.

I've been having some hard days lately. My doctors, family and I are concerned that I am still having tiny strokes, but we are also a bit cavalier about it because there is little we can do to prevent or rectify such a thing. Truthfully, I am far better now than I was just a year ago, so we wonder if it would be doing more harm than good to mess with the mix at this point, anyway. But there is always this, the ever present acknowledgment that my life is far more fragile than most. Sitting at home alone and having difficulty moving reminds me that Jon could come home one day and find me, well, gone. Oddly, I forget that at times and find the reminders necessary. It isn't sad or worthy of despair because it is nothing more than chance that drives such things. Above all, it's part of the acceptable risk of living this life of fallibility; if not, why would we do it?

Life continues on, in its way. I monitor myself for signs of new things and I attempt to keep the old things in check. I give in to reality and order eating utensils to take with me when I go out to eat and I allow Jon to cut my food once in awhile. I let the panic attacks play themselves out without too much collateral damage and I make room for OCD in the garden. I'm lucky to have friends and family who bear the supreme frustration that it is to be involved with someone who expends ALL of their mental energy on work and therefore forgets everything else. I find myself less and less able to stomach schadenfreude, even more so the people who engage in it. That's quite a change from a few years ago.

What is tremendous about my life now is that I get to watch things grow. The gardens are presently devastated but they will be beautiful some day. Just as my students often come to me devastated from life and a lack of encouragement, they can't help but be as beautiful as anything on this planet or in the universe, gaining only in wonder as they go and grow. We do march on together, you and I and us, and it is tremendous.

I doubt I would appreciate these progressions of sublimity if I did not also have the understanding of fragility. In ways hard to comprehend or explain, I am so very lucky. So, I fall more than I used to and I choke while swallowing more and more; these things are nothing more than the forgetting to water for a day droopings or the misunderstood reading: temporary and unimportant. They are that because everything is going to be OK.

No matter what.


Picture credit
I wish I could hire her.

Edit: As I was going to sleep last night it randomly popped into my head that I misued the thern "schadenfreude." So, I edited. Hey, it was almost 12:30 A.M.! I was all tuckered out.