A Blog is a Blog is a Blog…

This is the 173 rd blog I have written. The bean (stats) counter on this page reveals that 13,479 + hits have occurred…and still counting  like Micky D’s keeps track ….”139,000,000,000,001 (bad burgers) served”. Traffic has been low for some blogs and through the roof for others. I am grateful for the interesting assortment of loyal readers and occasional visitors.  I know that some readers occasionally find my opinions harsh, my tone insolent, my satiric wit inappropriate….but I would say this in all seriousness…actually, I think it was Voltaire who said, ” I may not believe in what you say, but I will fight to my death for your right to say it”….

What I do NOT appreciate are misguided comments regarding the content of this blog.  Allow me to explain. It seems an individual is on the receiving end of reading (er, listening to someone read  TO them) SELECT blogs and  select ‘comments’ which I have written in response to  reader comments. That person is ‘disturbed’ by my words. My first thoughts are, (now get this straight ‘reader’/paraphrasing guy!!) you are not reading this yourself. Neither of us knows if you are getting an accurate rendition (verbatim and complete) of what I have written.  Reading is very subjective and interpretive.  Tone, inflection, reading speed, response to punctuation etc are all factors in the process that impact our perception of the text.  You, sadly have no control over that because someone else is reading to you and we don’t know how well they are doing that.  You have apparently not listened to someone read those numerous  blogs I wrote which I know you would find astoundingly interesting, informative, and sympathetic to the human condition.  Assuming that you are getting  an accurate reading of the controversial ones,   my second thought is, GET A GRIP!   Yes, I do have strong opinions about many things…the CNIB for example. That is my right. I have not slandered them. They do a fine job of screwing themselves up.  As for the mayor and my comment about “short guy with a whiny voice”? I talked to him last night. We kibutzed and laughed. He’s OK with me and my blog. He also is grateful that I work so hard for his city without payment…and he IS short and does have a whiny voice. it seems you are the one with a problem. The problem? You are in that horrible, dependant situation of passively receiving bits of my blog via a  third party  because you can not access it independently. Frankly, I think THAT  is more of an issue than the contents of this blog. That aside, I would say that the essence of any communication and voicing of opinion,  lends itself to a contrary or different opinion on the topic by anyone and everyone who hears or reads it.  The minute we open our mouths in the morning and begin saying stuff … ” I don’t like big cities, or Republicans, or Liberals, or the taste of chicken, or the movie last night”, someone else is going to have another opinion. That’s life. You would have enjoyed the blogs I wrote that support your like-minded position….on gay rights, homophobia (see ‘God loves Everyone’)  tips on independent living, fairness to animals and more. Trouble is, nobody’s reading those to you. Hmm. Maybe you should get over to that charitable organization you feel I trash too much and see if they will find you some computer gear so that you can check my blog yourself. If you do not wish to do so, (or they won’t/can’t give you what you need–a more likely scenario), then realize that I usually voice my opinion and temper it by adding something to the effect that others may not share it.  While I may talk ABOUT  the organizations or groups that I am involved with, I do not speak FOR them.  It seems that your ‘reader’ is doing you a selective disservice. I can not write something that will interest or please every reader all of the time, or even half of them. What I do know is, that many people including: guide dog handlers and  puppy-raisers, animal lovers, a jeweler in Australia, an urban planner in the UK, guide dog trainers, a blind guy who applauded my blog on who is suited to having a guide dog,  several authors,  Unitarians, environmentalists, a micro publisher in California, a gay guy somewhere in the world,  a woman in Italy who has a blind friend, a budding film maker, a vacuum cleaner rep, many people who want their bus stops announced, friends, a centre for the blind in the Eastern USA, a small initiative to publish audio books in Africa….all of these people and many more have found something useful in my writing. Others? Some are not happy, but they tend not to comment directly on the blog or to me very much….they just bitch behind my back. The wonderful thing about freedom of speech and the information age, is how the inter-connectedness of the world becomes so evident. This is the end of this discussion my friend…unless your selective ‘reader’ does not pass THIS blog on too.

Opal Goes to a Luncheon at City Hall

Mum says we’re going to a boring luncheon at city hall today. I don’t get it. I LOVE luncheons, especially at city hall where there is always lots of food, even though mum says the food is overpriced plastic crap payed for at the taxpayers expense.  She says we have to go so we can bug the mayor and some city councillors while the going is good…something about a municipal election coming up and they’re falling all over themselves trying to get some votes.  They don’t usually hold this event until springtime, but the mayor (you know, the little guy with a whiny voice?) wants to score political points NOW.  She says we must shmooze with them…work the room before they know what’s hit them.  I don’t get it. Why would HRM council not want to do the right thing in the first place?   She says they could  build me a service dog run (yeah!!!) and improve transit (maybe pay for a voice enunciator on buses to announce stops), and hire some bylaw enforcement officers, and FIRE some dead-weight HRM staff whose salaries suck up the city’s budget which could be better applied elsewhere, and get some funding to provide recreational programs for kids with disabilities, and spend more money on removing physical barriers instead of making ridiculous expenditures like the Chebucto road widening project which destroyed property and trees to allow a few more gas-guzzling SUV’s to squeeze into town, and make the public library services more equitable for the blind who don’t care to use the ‘charitable’ library, and find some balls ( not the kind I like) so they stop caving to the interests of developers who are destroying the city with condo and commercial development in all the wrong places, and….why don’t they just listen to mum in the first place? I think SHE should run for council in the next election. I’d love to run around my new service dog run.

Sing a Blind Song

Sometimes I get a little bored, so I ‘Google’ stuff. Today, I checked out songs about blindness sung by blind people. It seems there aren’t that many…Phew!!! Thank god we’re not ALL maudlin. I found a few though, mostly from old black Southern men (Sonny Terry, Sleepy John Estes, Blind Gary Davis and Blind Roger Hayes). Frankly, I’d be mortified if I had  to live with a handle like Blind Helen. It’s bad enough that people refer to me as “Helen With the Dog”. Turns out that blind musicians have better stuff to sing about than their angst about being blind…. love,  bad relationships, the world (Mr. Ray Charles does a great job of ‘What a Wonderful World’)  and the city (Little Stevie Wonder’s ‘Living for the City’). As for all the SONGS with LYRICS which include the word ‘blind’ or blindness’….sheesh! That’s a whole different kettle of fish. Just as our everyday expressions use the words blind to mean that one is unaware, purposefully oblivious, uncaring etc. (“blind as a bat”, “turn a blind eye”, “love is blind”, “blind rage”, “blind leading the blind”…) song lyrics use them similarly and just as regularly.  I’m not claiming that it’s not PC and we should immediately run around tweaking and rewriting  all these songs. It might be an idea to think about language and how we use words. As a word nerd, I love to learn about the origin and history of words. I wonder how it came to be that a physical condition morphed into use as a negative adjective and verb.

A Sobering Reminder

Yesterday, my sweetie’s apartment building went up in flames. Luckily, no one was injured. However, 70 residents (mostly elderly) are without a home until further notice.  My Significant Other heard the fire alarm go off and went outdoors to investigate. This building is prone to false alarms.  In the minutes that L stepped out of the building people started to stream out. The fire department arrived simultaneously, The story is that  the apartment nearest the fire triggered the smoke detector. It was unoccupied at the time. However, a tenant heard the endless buzzing and summoned the super.  He entered the apartment and faced a blaze, and yelled for the tenant to pull the fire alarm and call the fire department. My sweetie called (from a stranger’s cell phone) to give me the news. Standing in shock, without a jacket, ID, keys, or Meerah the cat, L was not allowed to return into the building.  Most residents were housed by the Red Cross at a local arena.  Meerah? L was told that all cats would be collected by the SPCA’s staff, once the fire fighters declared it safe, with the most vulnerable (nearest the danger)  being rescued first.  Dazed and without a worldly possession,  L learned this morning  that little Meerah had been rescued last night,  then taken to the SPCA  Emergency shelter until morning, then transferred to a vet across town for examination. The cat was treated for dehydration and returned to the SPCA shelter where she remains with the other rescued cats until further notice.  A friend of ours who lives in the same building and who was also forced to leave her cat behind, learned, to her horror this morning that somehow her cat was not in the apartment when the SPCA rescue team went in to find her.

Last week, L checked my smoke detector when I complained that it should have gone off after I dropped food on the stove’s burner and did not.  L urged me to report it. I did so quickly (I am the ultra-prepared person when it comes to potential disaster). My big mistake, was not insisting that it be checked immediately by an electrician. So, today, after my seven thousand phone calls on L’s behalf (to the Insurance, the Red Cross, the SPCA, the EMO…) I picked up the receiver to make one more call; “come fix this thing today or I will call the fire Marshall”, I advised my landlord very forcefully. My defective smoke detector was taken away and a new one installed by an electrician within 1 hour.

There are some things too precious to conceive loosing,  including my animals’ lives and my own.  I urge you all to check your smoke alarms immediately. If you do not have a kit ready to take out your door when a fire alarm goes off, get one together. Include ID, medication, important numbers and papers…anything you would need to evacuate.  Have a plan to evacuate WITH your animals and be ready to do so any time the alarm goes. Know where the carrier is for your cat. Be ready to get it out quickly, loading it with the cat, gathering the bag and dog and getting  OUT.  Practice doing so until you can do it in your sleep.

Opal Goes to High School (again)

Yesterday, Opal and I went back to Citadel High school in Halifax. Our purpose this time was to introduce the 2008  Writing contest which AEBC Halifax (Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians) is hosting with 100 grade 10 students. The last time we visited Citadel, it was final exam time in June. There wasn’t much of anything going on then, except that a handful of kids,  bleary-eyed from all-night studying were getting bummed out about their exams.   A few others were in a tizzy because Security had  hacked off their locks and cleaned out their lockers.  Yesterday was a totally different scenario. In a word, CHAOS!  We handily found our way to the familiar ‘office’. The staff were helpful and made photocopies of some handouts for me. We sat next to a funked-out kid in trouble waiting to see one of the vice-principals.  Opal and I listened to the bedlam in the halls.  Announcements (both for students and teachers) are constantly being cranked out.  Each one is preceded by an alarming ‘alert’ tone, which is reminisant of something you would hear on a submarine …or in a prison. Maybe it was the added destinations in the announcements…”…meeting in ‘D’  block”  that made me think of this.  I ate my tuna sandwich and took in the conversations students were having with the staff…”I DID bring a note signed by a parent, so why am I marked missing?”  “My class is supposed to be in room 208 in ‘D’ block, but they’re not there!”   Today, we were back to meet Marjorie, an English teacher who asked me to introduce the Writing Contest and speak to her class about blindness. She seemed her usual harried self when she arrived.  As we gathered my photocopies, I noticed someone had stopped to pat and talk to Opal. “Don’t touch my dog please, she’s working”, I said automatically. They continued,  oblivious to my words.  I said, “Hey, don’t touch my dog”.  This is when Marjorie introduced me to the offender, Kam the principal of Citadel High. I grinned but  offered no appology. Instead I gave her one of the handouts on Guide dogs. Marjorie and I found our way to the staff lunch room on the 2nd floor where I was to wait for “the kids to settle down from lunch”.  A teacher walked in and screamed, apparently terrified at the sight of Opal. This happens occasionally.  Five  minutes later, we bumped into the same teacher as we entered  a doorway into a lunchroom alcove. He screamed again. This time, I grinned. Opal shrugged off his scream, disregarded him and guided me, as she is supposed to. Our visit with the kids was great. The contest will have them writing about what they think their world would be like without sight.  We talked about blindness too. Questions?  Sure. “How do audible traffic signals work?” When I mentioned blind sports, the restless, surly  kid in the front (I’m guessing Marjorie parks him there to keep an eye on him) blurted out his question, “Is there blind basketball?”.   I told him I didn’t know, but that Goal ball is a huge blind sport,  even a Para Olympic sport. We talked about accessible technology and devices.  I asked them to take out their cell phones. Most of these 36 kids have one and were eager to break the ‘no cell phone in class’ rule.  I urged them to resist actually dialing, but to imagine trying to use it to text message or call, if they could not see. “I can’t feel the keypad or see the display”, some girl complained. “That’s my point”,  I said. Most of the hundreds of models of cell phones,  MP3 players etc are totally impossible to use if you are blind.  As always, the majority of questions were about guide dogs.  Time flew by and soon Marjorie was giving me the hook. We got a round of applause and then Opal and I were escorted out before the buzzer and the ensuing stampede of kids by a pair of girls (teenage girls always travel in pairs, even in 2008). Opal and I managed to get home without causing anyone else to scream.

Hey! Taxi Drivers

Listen up cabbies! I’m going to say this once. Here is the not-so-definitive list of things you need to know when you pick up a customer who is blind or partially-sighted.

• If you drive a radio cab, or if you get your calls through a computerized dispatch system, chances are that the customer will have specified that they are blind (they should ’cause they can’t expect you to guess). So, when you get to the pick-up location, do not sit in your car and expect the blind person to know that you have arrived.  We are not physic.  It is impossible to know if the nearby idling vehicle I hear is ‘my cab’ or just some other vehicle at this busy location (like a pimpmobile or a  Fed Ex courier or a cab from the wrong company). You must get out of the car and identify yourself as the driver from XYZ cab company. If there is something wrong with your legs, attempt to crank open the window and announce yourself from the comfort of your car.
• Notice the guide dog with the person? They will have specified this too upon telephoning. Unless you have a medical certificate which exempts you from having a dog in your car (you would croak from the allergic reaction), then  YOU MUST, BY LAW, ACCEPT THE DOG IN YOUR VEHICLE!!! THERE ARE REPERCUSSIONS FOR PEOPLE WHO REFUSE ACCESS TO GUIDE DOGS…AND FINES.
• Do not charge an ‘extra passenger’ or ‘baggage’ fee for transporting a guide dog (I have experience d this before). If you do so in Halifax, you could lose your taxi permit.
• If the person with the guide dog wants to sit in the front with their dog, do not freak out. It is my practice to do so, as recommended by the school where I received my dog. I know that other schools have differing philosophies, but this is what I choose. Notice (as you always do) when we get in, that there is actually much more room for the dog in the front between my legs…yes, even (especially) in those monster luxury cars… than in the back behind the seat.  The big hump in the middle of the floor in the back is very constricting. Back seat? No way. If we crash, she will not go flying off a back seat, or be hurled to one side of the cab. It is more comfortable and safer for us both to sit in the front. this works for all cars, even the smallest. She is always well-behaved and will not touch you. (she may sneeze, though, ’cause your car is dusty)
• Do not think that because your passenger is blind, that you can travel the most indirect route to get to the destination (boosting the fare), ’cause most of us will notice that you have taken a side trip to Ecum Secum on the way to the corner of Barrington and Duke.
• I miss the old days. Taxi meters ticked back in the day. Now, there is no possible way to determine if the requested fare is what actually appears on the meter…however, do not get the idea that charging $17.50  for a one mile ride is something you can get away with.
• If your client has a charge slip, or you have a charge slip for them, and you want a signature, then think about how tricky that might be to sign. Me? I won’t sign one. “You sign it”, I say… (you  could be asking me to sign up for donating a kidney for all I know)
• When you  get to wherever the passenger wants to go, ask if they need assistance to get to the entrance of the building, or at the very least, give precise directions…”the is 5 meters straight ahead”. As I suggest to everyone, saying “over there”  while pointing is useless (and a bit brainless and thoughtless)
• Alert your passenger if you are dropping them off in a puddle or ice patch. (I once stepped out of a cab, slipped on an icy patch, did a pirouette, landing on my knees, resulting in a bruise and torn jeans)

CNIB AGM and ‘Community Meetings’…be there and be heard

The CNIB is having their Annual General Meeting in Toronto on September 27 th, at least that’s what I was told. I could not confirm this on their website…guess they don’t want anyone to know.  The local Nova Scotia/PEI Division is having its ACM (“Annual Community Meeting”) on Wednesday, September 24th. A community meeting is the spin that the local deadheads have put on an AGM which does not present an annual financial report. I can’t seem to get any accurate accounting for what this organization does with its money…er, that would be the money they suck out of innocent people who donate to their financial campaigns…like the horribly tasteless and demeaning e-mail campaign which caused such an uproar recently. No matter.  I have resigned myself to the fact that accountability, consultation  and transparency are not words in the CNIB vocabulary or philosophy. Imagine my delight when the local whiz kid who just won the NDP nomination in Halifax (Megan Leslie) invited me to attend this community meeting with her. I guess she needs an entourage in the guise of a friendly blind friend who can create a potentially good reason to leave (“Opal has a play date in Chicago! Let’s go, Megan!”).  It will be fun, I’m sure to go to this thing and have a sensible ally. The Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians was calling for a cross-Canada series of protests at the CNIB offices on the day that CNIB has their AGM (September 27th, I think). Why? Let me count the ways CNIB merits a slap on the wrists;

1- They must be publicly accountable for the tasteless and demeaning e-mail campaign which was the icing on the nutty CNIB cupcake for many blind people this year.

2- The CNIB plans to change their constitution to allow for a sighted CEO/president. I guess little Jim Sanders is going to be going quietly into that good night. I think there must be a stipulation about employing a percentage of staff within CNIB who are blind.

3- The CNIB services across the country have taken a gigantic nosedive.

4- The current philosophy  of this merry band is a little skewed for many of us (not client centered, not service centered, not democratic), and

5- The monopolistic status of this organization that purports to speak on behalf of the blind.

So, if you are remotely interested in the rights of the blind, the nasty decline of services that the CNIB has taken, or the REALLY BAD IDEA of having a non-client as president of the CNIB (or at least a quota that ensures blind staff, and if you are tired about the dismal road that CNIB is travelling,  then get to a CNIB near you and voice your thoughts on it. Call the media! Call you friends and family and ask for their support in protesting on September 27th in Toronto, or at the numerous protests across Canada at CNIB offices planned that day…or you might go to a fake AGM, like the one here in Halifax which they are calling an Annual Community Meeting.

Mothers of Invention Invent Magic Carpet Ride

It’s the weekend, so cut me some slack on the double pop-culture reference, eh?

In early May, I tediously cleaned my 8′ X 10′ area rug, rolled it up and stowed that puppy away in the closet. It was getting warm and the thought of vacuuming the beast during the hazy days of summer was overwhelming. I sweat buckets when I hoover, so adding summer temps to the task was not an option.  Besides, my vacuum cleaner had been gasping and sputtering along for weeks. I feared its spontaneous expiration in a blaze of dog hair and a puff of smoke if I overworked it any more than necessary.

The weather has shifted in Nova Scotia…towards fall. That means crisp, cool air, the sweet smell of decaying leaves and the promise of winter to come.  I decided to haul the rug back to its place in the lounge, but not before cleaning our digs tippy-top to bottom.  The girls were curious when I lugged the large tube of rolled up carpet to the room where we eat, play and entertain. I’m convinced that they had completely forgotten that we ever had it in our home, so when I lay it out, it was all new to Lucy and Opal.  They sniffed (mostly Opal sniffed) and walked end to end and corner to corner over the checkerboard pattern. Suddenly, their brains set off simultaneous light bulbs. WARNING!  This is the double pop-culture reference! Necessity is indeed the mother of invention (Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention produced ‘Freak Out’ in 1966, one of the first ‘concept rock’ albums ever.  Oddly, I recall the pillow on the floor that I was sitting on while I ate Twinkies with my cup of Jasmine tea…the dim lighting, incense, shag rug…the 12 members of the urban commune I was visiting…hmm, I can’t seem to recall any lyrics to the Zappa and Mothers music that was playing in the room.)

Opal threw herself on her back on the rug and got some intense back and muzzle scratching going for a full ten minutes. Lucy realized that she had discovered the world’s biggest scratching pad. She dug her many, many claws into it (she’s a double-toed calico).   It was for them, a magic carpet ride (Magic Carpet Ride was released by Steppenwolf in 1968…sadly, I don’t recall those lyrics either. Like many of the free-spirited types or that era,  I retained only bits about the 60’s experience…we ingested, puffed and imbibed way too many substances. Thank god, some of us grew up and retained brain cells).

My perk with the rug? My music sounds better with the sound damping effect created by the rug.  I can listen to my tunes (not Zappa or Steppenwolf these days) and enjoy  the richer sound that comes out of my stereo.  Now, all I need to do is buy that monster shop vac at Canadian Tire to help me keep the girl’s magic carpet relatively clean.

What’s In a (Guide Dog’s) Name?

One of the pleasures in acquiring a new puppy or kitten is spending hours with your family deciding on a name for the critter. The kids want to go with ‘Bandit’ or ‘Princess’, but you’re leaning towards a loftier, more meaningful handle, like… ‘Mandela’ or ‘Climate Change’. If you live alone, you find yourself scouring the ‘Names For Baby’ book at the library.  When people ask me what my Guide dog’s name is (and they do so incessantly)  I sometimes give my standard fake answer, ‘Lucy’, particularly if we are captive on a bus when the likelihood of loud, repetitive calling out of ‘Opal’ is great.  On occasion, I fess up and say, ‘Opal’,  and some people comment on her “lovely name”.  When I have a moment, I explain that I had no say in choosing it.

Guide dog training centres all have breeding programs. The larger schools, like ‘The Seeing Eye’ in Morristown have hundreds of their own dog ’stock’ at any given time. Opal originally came from Guiding Eyes for the Blind’s program. She was raised in North Carolina before being sent to Canadian Guide Dogs For the Blind in Manotick, Ontario  (a little like being traded to another ball team in the major leagues).  Her pedigree information (like player stats) proceeded her, revealing that her mum (Dam) is named, ‘Regina’, and her dad (Sire) is ‘Buzz’.  (Buzz has fathered hundreds, if not thousands of dogs and his sperm is shipped around the world, or so I am told) . Opal  is in fact, Opal IV.  The litter into which she was born at GEB, as in all cases, was assigned a letter of the alphabet.  It was time for an ‘O’ litter.  All the dogs in Opal’s litter were given names that started with the letter ‘O’ (She has a brother named, ‘Othello’). The naming process for guide dogs is not whimsical. Care is given to check records of active and retired dogs’ names before naming them. Sometimes a name is re-issued.  I imagine it’s a bit of a challenge to name the ‘X’ litters… ‘Xena’, ‘Xaviar’ … then what?  The sponsors and financial contributors of the schools and training centres sometimes influence the choices too. After all, if a generous company or individual donates a large amount of money to provide guide dogs to the blind, then why not?  Not that I would want a dog, named…um, ‘Acme’.

I recall a conversation at the CGDB training centre in Manotick. A fellow trainee (whose own dog was a step-sister and kennel mate of Opal’s), said something about black opals (referring to the gem stone). I had never heard of such a thing but it stuck in my mind.  In my Internet research, I discovered that New Zealand and Australia are lousy with them. In fact, I received a comment on this blog from an Australian jeweler bound for Canada who happened to Google a bunch of search terms that included, ‘opal, Halifax’ and ended up on my blog reading about Opal.  I’m not rushing out to order a black opal-studded collar for Opal, but someday I may just buy myself a nice ring with a black opal set into it.

‘Blindness’ the Movie…Bunch of Blind People Will “Watch”

The movie, ‘Blindness’ opened at the Atlantic film Festival last week.  It opens in wide-release on October 3rd in Halifax. Ya gotta know that a bunch ‘o blind folk are going to have something to say about it.  At least, that’s my hope, idea, delusion, nightmare-to-be… When I heard about this movie, based on the book by Jose Saramago, I thought that it would be a great opportunity to get the Halifax chapter of Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians together for a little outing to view this thing. My plan? Send out a media release to local feature hounds and hope that they might be interested in interviewing the blind ‘Blindness’ viewers for on-the-spot reaction to this movie’s spin on blindness.  I listened to the trailers on the Internet that are pimping promoting this movie. It’s difficult to get a handle on what’s going on in this city where everyone suddenly goes blind. You know it can’t be good…a little chaos, panic, tortured emotional claptrap and the mandatory heroes who shine when their ‘lights’ go out.   I wanted to consult the book in preparation. It’s only fair to compare before you go to the flic, right? Well, bad news. It’s not available in audio within the Halifax public libraries. I doubt it exists in commercial audio format. The ‘charitable’ library (CNIB) might have found some bored Scarbourough housewife volunteer to read/record it on THEIR discs ( the ones they destroy when you return them..but that’s another story and a past blog—-go look), however, I quit my ‘membership’ with that service in protest. No matter. Who needs a book? Full steam ahead, I say! I rang up my AEBC buds to invite them to the ‘event’. Now,  I’m wondering…”What was I thinking!!!???”  It’s bound to be, umm…interesting. I predict the following; A. (with poor O & M –orientation and mobility)  will get lost on his way to the washroom, or worse, fall down the escalator. B will be shocked (devout Catholic) when she hears (despite her hearing loss because the sound will be maxed out for this monster movie on a Saturday) the sex scenes, foul language and violence which ‘Blindness’ promos and  ratings promise (I forgot to mention this to her).  A. (who has a brain injury) will show up at the wrong theatre on the wrong day, or not show up at all.  C.  (a smoker) will get wedged in the washroom stall with her walker as she tries to sneak a smoke that will set off a fire alarm. There will be lots of chatter amongst our group during the film…”What’s going on? What does that mean?..” which will cause other patrons to hiss. Opal will need a pee in the middle of the show, so I will step out (requires 15 minutes meandering through a mall) during which time, A.  will have had a loud fight with J.  (they don’t get along). The reporter (only one will show up from an obscure media outlet) will be awaiting our profound comments and reactions…after all, we are the pros, right? His recording device will fail. That may turn out to be the only blessing, as my motley crew will have no profound observations to make, other than that the sound was too loud and nobody ‘got it’. Oh, yeah…D’s guide dog, the ‘German boy’, that Opal loves so much, will bark incessantly  as we depart the cineplex.

ADDENDUM: It has become evident that the movie, ‘Blindness’ seriously impacts the blind community. It is a graphic and some times horrifying film that portrays blindness as a terrible condition that robs its victims of their humanity. It will compound and perpetuate the existing irrational prejudices of blind people which are based on stereotype. It falsely depicts blind people as incapable of almost everything and even suggests that blindness alters the human personality. The complex decision for blind people everywhere is if they will spend money to see  it (thereby supporting  the film maker) or boycott…or protest…or go, sit and watch until they are disgusted (somewhere long before it ends), disrupt the show as they leave, and demand their money back and then discourage the general public from viewing it…choices to be made.

Dog Like This?

I hear it all the time. Strangers on buses, people in shops, taxi drivers, folks on the street say to me … “I’ve got a dog just like that”. My thoughts? Not likely. You may have a black Labrador retriever, but you do not have a dog like mine. You may have a clever dog who can do silly tricks, but you do not have a dog like mine. You may have a dog with a pair of sad brown eyes, but you do not have a dog like mine. You may have a black dog who is friendly and peppy, but you do not have a dog like mine. You may have a dog that is attentive to you, but you do not have a dog like mine. You may have a black dog of some kind, but you do not have a dog who will stand at a curb with traffic whizzing by her head. You do not have a dog who will ignore other yappy canines, people and smelly bushes as you walk down the road. You do not have a dog who can “find a seat”, “the lift”, “the escalator”, “the counter”, “the bus”, “the post office”, “the washroom”…”the way”.  You do not have a dog with whom you entrust your life. You do not have a dog who saves you from disaster on a regular basis. You do not have a dog who is with you 24/7. You do not have a dog like my registered Guide dog,  Opal IV…so just say to me instead, “I have a dog, but it’s nothing like your wonderful, smart and beautiful canine companion”.

Wise Advice Chief Arrested!

Wise Advice Chief, HRM (also known as Lablady) was arrested Thursday evening. The self-proclaimed queen of Halifax was charged with the following offences: 1 count of Vincibilty (opposite of invincibility), 1 count of Aggressive Hoisting of a Microwave causing bodily pain, 5 counts of Excessive Use of Potty Mouth, 2 counts of Animal Emotional Neglect,  and 327 counts of General Crankiness.  Police spokesperson, Constable Opal commented: ” It was one of those sad cases of a woman trying to do too much with a body that would not cooperate. You can’t ignore chronic pain too long…something’s got to give”.  Wise Advice was kept under house arrest for the weekend. Her phone and e-mail were shut down. She was allowed to go out into the community (escorted by Constable Opal) to purchase cat food and to attend church. Forced to take hot mineral baths, meditate, listen to countless audio books and play with her animals for three days,  it appears that Wise Advice is now on the mend. Judge Judy commented on the case: ” Her moral compass may be intact, but the lady must get her other monitoring systems calibrated”. Hey…. doesn’t Wise Advice’s sweetie calibrate equipment by trade?

Hey! Wise Advice For My Goofy ‘Neighbours’

Now I’ve had it with you boorish bunch of anal retentive rejects.  What’s wrong with you people?!!!  The next time one of you ‘neighbours’ in this multi-unit building cannot be decent enough to emit a sound when you are ‘in my space’ as I greet you, I will not be held responsible for what may come out of my mouth. Sheesh! How rude can  you be?  Please tell me if you have some good reason (besides being assholes) for standing by the elevator, or at the laundry machines, or in the hallway, or at the mailboxes and totally ignoring my greeting?  I didn’t think so. You’re as stunned as a sac of hammers! You seem to find your voice when other residents are around and they greet you. You there, big guy with work boot footsteps and smelly clothes…yeah you…do you know how creepy and scary it was to feel the presence of a huge man nearby, and not know that you were NOT an ax murderer or something because you couldn’t even seem to muster a grunt or fart to acknowledge my cautious  “hi” when we met in the hall at 5am as I was going to relieve my dog?  You know I’m blind, you ditz!   And the fat lady with chunky heels who smells like a floral arrangement at a funeral home?  What’s up with you?   I was coming up the stairs to the lobby to get my mail when you were parked/docked/berthed by the elevator door and blocking my path. Do ya think you could move your sweet smelling butt over a bit or say something when you see a lady with a white cane (Opal was on a break) coming straight at you? Nah. You didn’t even say “hey, don’t whack me with that cane” when I ran into you. You stood there like a lummox after I muttered, “excuse me and hello”.  I had just stepped  out of the shower, so I know it wasn’t  my body odour. Then there are the old biddies (yeah, the ones who “don’t like the disgusting sight of that dog on the lawn”) who seem to think that I have no ability to HEAR anything. Hey! It’s really not polite to dish someone WHEN THEY’RE STANDING  FIVE FEET AWAY! …”She’s got a lot of laundry again. Bet there’s dog hair in it” .  Sheesh! You geeks really need to get yourselves a crash course in social interaction 101, or read a Helen Keller bio or something! Anything would help your ability to interact  with blind people at this point.

Opal Goes to the Audio Book Club

When I say to Opal, “come on, let’s read a book”. She knows that it means that sound will start coming out of our Daisy player…some guy or gal will talk and talk… it’s all blah, blah, blah to Opal, but she loves it. Why?  It’s our quiet time together. She gnaws her bone contentedly as we lay on the bed and snuggle (oops! dog on bed again…check!).  She takes my running commentary on the book in stride, looking at me (quizzically, I think) when I say things like; “that doesn’t make any sense!”, or “what kind of a moron wrote this thing? they can’t even string a sentence together!” or “Ooo, Opal. this is a really good book, eh?”  To further cement Opal’s audio appreciation, the Audio Book Club which I started with the Halifax Public Library, has its meeting at the Alderney branch.  Opal knows that when I say, or rather sing with a commercial jingle lilt, “Audio Book Club today!”,  we are bound for Dartmouth on the ferry. That in itself is exciting. We sit on the upper deck and suck up the sea breeze as Opal watches the gulls fly overhead and the boats sail by. The BEST part, is AFTER we go to the audio book club…after the meeting filled with conversation and laughter, after I load up with more of the library’s audio books and sign them out, after the tea and more conversation with my friends at ‘Biscuit Lips’ (a nearby cafe)… after all of that, my girl KNOWS we will FINALLY go to the park by the shore. She also knows that mum has brought the ‘flexi’ (retractable leash) and her necklace (collar) and her rubber boomerang….and that she will get a chance to sniff and run and ‘blow the stink off’. We will soak up the rays and more sea breezes, and stagger back onto the ferry quite shattered, but definitely content.

Our audio book club meeting was yesterday. My task is to research the author and other details about the current book selection and bring in some information to share with the group. Our most recent title was “Kabul Beauty School” by Deborah Rodriguez and Kristen Ohlsen. I was as eager to share my ‘find’ with the book club as Opal was to get to the park. I managed to interview Ohlsen by e-mail. She was very forthcoming and answered my probing questions. I listened to an old NPR interview with the Afghan women who are the subject and spine of the book. (they’re quite cranky and claim that Rodriguez left Afghanistan and did not receive money from the book profits). I asked Ohlsen (who is often overshadowed in reviews and interviews despite her role as primary author) to comment on this, and more. She came through, and in doing so, gave the Halifax Public Library’s first ever Audio book club something juicy to talk about.  Our next pick is “Treasure Island”. Somehow, I doubt that I will raise much in the way of interviews with Robert Louis Stevenson.

Little Jim Sanders Apologises (again)

CNIB President and CEO, Jim Sanders cranked out another e-mail message to me today. Damage Control Central seems to have found  the following words to put into his mouth: ” Dear Helen….the message was not appropriate (What would you sell to save your sight?) …fund-raising campaign discontinued… as signatory of the letter, I take full responsibility and extend my personal apology for any discomfort or offense that this message may have caused you”… signed Jim Sanders

This e-mail had no lovely GUIDE DOGS in the images ( CNIB does NOT train or financially support Guide dog training in any way) ….it had instead, the boring and newish CNIB logo and bush (maybe it’s the tree of Vision Hope? ) …a ‘brand’ they spent an obscene amount of money developing. It seems the braniacs at CNIB  didn’t like the sound of “Canadian National Institute for the Blind” any more. Nah, that’s too, um…’blind’ sounding. So they changed it to CNIB (like RBC or BMO banks) and now they never use the word blind in their name.  Some marketing geeks decided to go with “Vision Hope, Vision Health” as the buzzwords du jour. That was some big  pile of letterhead, pamphlets and building signs to change, guys!  What’d that cost you?…or rather how much of the money that you solicited  from unsuspecting donors (the ones who still  think that you actually “help the blind” in every way and at every turn) did you waste? That dough could have actually gone to client services…gee, why didn’t you just just ask your clients what they thought about the new brand….oops, I forgot.   the CNIB is not into consultation, transparency or accountability.

Opal Votes

Mum says we are going to the NDP nomination meeting to vote (for Megan Leslie). She didn’t seem too happy about it…says someone else is going to read the ballot, point where to sign, watch her do it and check it for her…so why bother?   She seemed to brighten up a moment later  when she got one of her ‘ideas’.  Now she says I AM GOING TO VOTE FOR HER!!! cause I’m so smart, and she trusts me and we’re going to make a statement about accessible voting for the blind. I don’t usually say much but now I get to make a statement….wow!

Yikes! It’s Hurricane Season

Opal and I live in Nova Scotia.  If there’s one thing Easterners really get into, it’s talking about , preparing for , and experiencing hurricane season. It must be that inbred Canadian love of imminent danger and disaster arising from weather conditions.  We are now in the midst of Hurricane season. Most hurricanes do not reach us, but we have had some over the years that did make landfall (Hurricane Juan, for example) and many tropical and sub tropical storms which can pack a mean punch. For people with disabilities, there are significant challenges involved in preparing for bad weather.  Just like the boy scouts, my motto is, ‘Be Prepared’. The Nova Scotia Disabled Persons Commission wrote a guide for PWD called “Are You Ready?”.  Voiceprint released a CD version of the guide.  It is full of helpful hints for PWD and seniors.   Other organizations in all jurisdictions have similar resources available. Consult the web sites or call the Red Cross, the Independent Living Resource Centre, Canadian Food Inspection Agency, National Organization on Disability,  Emergency Management Nova Scotia, VON (Vial of Life Program) or any EMO in your area.

Opal is a hurricane veteran. She was raised in North Carolina and was evacuated more than once, including during Katrina. Service animals, by the way ARE allowed into shelters (pets are not). I had no Guide dog at the time Hurricane Juan blew through Halifax some years ago.  I do recall my cat being terrified, especially when one of our windows blew in.  The power was out for five days. The streets were dangerous and impassible because of fallen trees and power lines. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to experience Juan with a guide dog.  In the last 12 months, Opal and I have dealt with bad weather, including tropical storms packing 120km hour winds and 150 ml of rain.   It’s important to listen to weather forecasts. It is helpful when planning your dog’s opportunities to relieve, because you can’t expect your 60 pound animal to be willing and able to squat in a gale (there’s always the bathtub…grin).

Plan your strategy for an upcoming storm. Obviously, you must have enough food and water on hand, for yourself and your animals. You should have a pre-determined   disaster plan for home, work or school. Create a communications and evacuation plan. and develop a support network of people. Your service animal’s kit must include food, dish, labeled medication, identification, papers, toy, bone, play collar, small blanket.  Fill your bathtub with water. Make sure you have the following on hand: non perishable food, water, batteries, portable or crank radio, medication supply, important papers including a list or audio tape of phone numbers and insurance information, first aid kit, warm clothing, sleeping bags, and items specific to your disability. Remember that phones and  power may go out (have mechanical can opener). There is often a lot of noise and confusion during building evacuation which makes it difficult for people who are blind who can no longer rely on familiar audio cues. Be familiar with your plan and practice regularly.

It’s not a good idea to use a land line when there is lightening ( My friend was knocked over while talking on the phone during a thunder storm as lightening hit the wires).  Unplug stuff, particularly computers.  Modems, monitors and so on, which can also become toast during a bad storm. On that cheery note, I am shutting down, unplugging and hunkering down as the weather begins to rage and we await the remnants of Hurricane Hannah.

Shoot The Dog!

Opal visited Dr. C. today at the Veterinary clinic.  It was time for her checkup, one of two exams which I am contractually obligated to provide for her every year. Verdict? She’s a healthy girl and a real charmer (kissed the vet into a giggling heap as she tried to listen to Opal’s heart).  Opal did not flinch when the doc gave her the mandatory shots, and squirmed around playfully on her back while Doc. C. felt her ‘girl bits’. The trip through the clinic to the weigh scale is always fun for her. She loves to sniff the mountain of cat and dog food bags as she passes by.  It’s a challenge to keep her still on the walk-on scale bed long enough to get an accurate weight reading. She tends to lean against the wall which skews the number.  Sometimes there’s a dog being bathed in the same room, so that sort of activity peaks her interest . I suspect  she’s thinking, “better you than me!”  The doc kindly filled out our Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind health book and faxed them the new entry. We payed our bill (less 40% Guide dog discount).  The discount for vet services to guide or service dog is offered by many practices. It’s worth calling around to the local vets to enquire. The most important thing is to find a vet that you have good confidence in. It’s a given that they love animals. I look for someone who is down to earth and not an excessive pill or procedure pusher. Our doc was an emergency veterinary hospital vet for many years.  I also had no qualms about ‘googling’ her to check out her credentials and history.  There seems to be a generally better-than average accommodation for clients who have service dogs among vets.  My experience has included getting appointments quickly, a longer than usual amount of time spent examining or treating an injury, patience in answering all of my questions,  willingness to fill out and fax forms as required, granting of credit when I could not afford to pay immediately, easy availability for phone conversation/questions and providing alternative or ‘jigged-up’ methods by which I can accurately dispense medication like ear drops.  A vet is more than someone who shoots your dog.

Dog People

There are people who self-identify as ‘Dog People’.  “I’m a cat person” others say. Then of course, there are enthusiasts of animals in general as well as sects people whose entire world revolves around one creature in particular;  monkeys, spiders, reptiles, fish….

But how can you spot a ‘Dog Person’ ? (assuming Fluffo is not by their side). Chances are, the clothing they wear is a dead give away.  If Bubba sheds like a bandit, obviously the Dog Person is covered with dog hair but even the most meticulous of Dog People can’t hide it. You’ll see them absently picking at the dog hair on their clothing from time to time.  They probably have a Miracle Brush in their desk drawer at work. Dog People often have a wardrobe that is… um, unusually casual. They own a large number of  ratty pants, old windbreakers and sturdy shoes.  Many keep that special non-dog outfit in the back of the closet, sanitized and ready to haul into service for a funeral or wedding.  Me? I don’t own clothing without pockets. Where would I put my poop bags and kibble if  my clothes had  no pockets?     When you climb into  Dog Person’s car, you will see further evidence of Trixie.  Maybe there’s a cage-like grill to contain her to the back of the car and restrain her from jumping on Dog  Person’s head while they are motoring down the highway.  Some Dog People even have a canine seat belt for Fido.  There is likely a lot of dog hair in the car too, along with things like old towels, blankets, dirt, plastic water dish and toys. Examine the car windows. Note the nose prints all over the glass. You’ll see the same nose prints in the windows of Dog Person’s home too.  When you visit Dog Person’s home,  you’ll notice other stuff there too… a minefield of bones, toys, and miscellaneous objects that Buddy has strewn about.  The furniture? It’s probably as casual as Dog Person’s clothing (Note: this does not apply to Park Avenue princess lap dog owners who manage to keep their home and clothing pristine) .  When Dog Person apologetically invites you to sit on their  sofa (and you KNOW they will give you the standard dog hair disclaimer), you might notice a faint (or not so faint) odour which you realize is the legacy of Sandy.  Dog Person seems oblivious to this odour. In fact, to them? it’s mildly pleasant. As you gaze around  Dog Person’s home, you also note a bizarre array of dog-related paraphernalia. There are blankets, a dog bed, bowls, leash, collar, grooming brushes, toys, a big bin of filled with Rex’s food, more toys, dog medication on the shelf in the kitchen, bones, dog treats,  a dog house outside, special fencing, and even more toys… You also note the state of disrepair of Dog Person’s home. When you ask them about the hole in the living room wall, they stare into space and mumble something about Pixie’s ’separation anxiety’ issues.  Above the hole in the wall, is one of the seven ‘dog callendars’ you have spotted so far in the house today. Chances are, it’s specific to the breed of Dog Person’s best friend. It matches the dog image on the coffee mug in your hand which you are drinking out of, as well as the pillow behind you on the smelly couch.  During your visit to Dog Person’s home, you will remember these dog theme objects and make a mental note to buy your Dog Person friend something similar for the office gift exchange next Christmas.  Now you know why Dog Person always seems to be talking about their dog. Clearly, they are obsessed.  If the weather is cool and your Dog Person host has provided you with slippers to wear ( or is that just a Canadian thing?), you wonder why the slippers are partially shredded.  It becomes crystal clear to  you when Rover enters the room with a half-mauled object in his jaws.  Rover brings it to you, eager to play. He drops the slobber-filled thing in your lap as Dog Person apologises once more. You start to say to Dog Person that you don’t really mind, when suddenly, you realize that the disgusting thing on your designer pants is actually your favourite, authentic Tilly hat.  Dog Person apologises some more and offers to replace it,  but you decline graciously.   You decide to take your leave from Dog Person’s home. You  carefully step around the dog toys and other stuff on your way to the door. Dog Person explains that they have a number of  baby gates in the house because of the dog, and that they don’t actaullly have a baby.  You cut through the yard, detouring  around the dog house which Mindy has never used, carefully avoiding any rogue dog poop piles and holes dug in the lawn.  As you pull away in your car, you hear Dog Person whistle and cheerfully say, “come on Albert, let’s go for a pee”.