The plan, today, is to go upstate. I will not be driving, of course. But just in case the driver needs help with navigation, I intend to be ready.
"But how?" you ask. "You can't read the highway signs."
Excellent point. I can't. However, I did print out directions on MapQuest and translate them, using my own personal code, into large brown-magic-marker abbreviations on the back of the sheet.
So, as long as I can remember what road we're on, I'll know which one we're supposed to be looking for. At least, that's the plan.
As for the ability to identify nearby rest stops and gas stations, we will be at the mercy of the highway commission.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Would That I Were Blinder
There are some things I would rather not see.
I would rather not watch Elizabeth Edwards turn her competent, intelligent, articulate image into that of a wronged soap heroine. Among all the candidates' spouses (and the candidates, for that matter), she was best able to articulate policy goals during the campaign. Now, all anybody asks her about is her set of proverbial horns.
I would rather not watch any more instances of the SNL Paterson parody. I do laugh at it now and then, but now I walk away less offended than saddened.
As an old friend of Judd Apatow once openly worried, I really do think that comedy of the bully is making a comeback. Woody Allen and others had once been the champions of the bullied, but those voices are getting diminished now, and we're left to make fun of the half-blind black man whose worst sin, as far as I can tell, was to bungle the publicity about a political appointment. Sure, Paterson has a terrible approval rating, but no one seems to have a good reason for it. He did make the mistake of chiding SNL for being a bully, though. So there you go: never call a bully a bully.
One last thing I would rather not see: Dick Cheney's face. Ever again. Do they make blind spots just for that?
I would rather not watch Elizabeth Edwards turn her competent, intelligent, articulate image into that of a wronged soap heroine. Among all the candidates' spouses (and the candidates, for that matter), she was best able to articulate policy goals during the campaign. Now, all anybody asks her about is her set of proverbial horns.
I would rather not watch any more instances of the SNL Paterson parody. I do laugh at it now and then, but now I walk away less offended than saddened.
As an old friend of Judd Apatow once openly worried, I really do think that comedy of the bully is making a comeback. Woody Allen and others had once been the champions of the bullied, but those voices are getting diminished now, and we're left to make fun of the half-blind black man whose worst sin, as far as I can tell, was to bungle the publicity about a political appointment. Sure, Paterson has a terrible approval rating, but no one seems to have a good reason for it. He did make the mistake of chiding SNL for being a bully, though. So there you go: never call a bully a bully.
One last thing I would rather not see: Dick Cheney's face. Ever again. Do they make blind spots just for that?
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Keeping the Public Informed
Tonight, I "revealed" twice in the span of a couple of hours. One mention at a meeting for an upcoming teaching project, the other after a show I had just seen. Both went fine.
The first one went something like this:
"By the way, I know that some of you aren't aware, so you should know that I'm slightly blind. The only way that should impact you is that if you hand me a written note and expect me to read it, I won't be able to do that. But if you want me to pretend I can read it and make it up as I go along, I'm pretty good at that."
The key seems to be getting the other person to laugh. This has always been Governor Paterson's approach to setting people at ease, and it's something I learned by trial and error over the first ten years of being not-not-blind. It does work, in that it gets the information across while simultaneously conveying that I am not a total weirdo.
Humor is a warm connection that does not require eye contact. But there's also a part of a reveal that, subtly, makes people feel more distant. There's a reading that does, "Oh, you're mysteriously blind? That's different from me. You're not quite like me." Not to say that people consciously think this, but I do feel that there's an element of that, even in social surroundings.
Whatever the case, it's necessary, and it does feel good to get a laugh from a room. I've known the latter since I was nine years old, and it's taken me a while to figure out the former.
The first one went something like this:
"By the way, I know that some of you aren't aware, so you should know that I'm slightly blind. The only way that should impact you is that if you hand me a written note and expect me to read it, I won't be able to do that. But if you want me to pretend I can read it and make it up as I go along, I'm pretty good at that."
The key seems to be getting the other person to laugh. This has always been Governor Paterson's approach to setting people at ease, and it's something I learned by trial and error over the first ten years of being not-not-blind. It does work, in that it gets the information across while simultaneously conveying that I am not a total weirdo.
Humor is a warm connection that does not require eye contact. But there's also a part of a reveal that, subtly, makes people feel more distant. There's a reading that does, "Oh, you're mysteriously blind? That's different from me. You're not quite like me." Not to say that people consciously think this, but I do feel that there's an element of that, even in social surroundings.
Whatever the case, it's necessary, and it does feel good to get a laugh from a room. I've known the latter since I was nine years old, and it's taken me a while to figure out the former.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Not Colorblind
I'm no botanist, but I'm pretty sure the "cherry blossoms" that spring up this time of year have nothing to do with cherries. I have yet to see actual cherries growing on trees in New York City. I may be missing them ,of course.
It is pretty damn cool to see the trees change from skinny brown to bright cherry-red to lean green over the course of two weeks. The way I see them, it's not so much that I'm looking at individual leaves -- that's hard -- but instead, especially in the breeze, one big moving organism.
I do like trees. And, to quote Lex Luthor, so does your average Cocker Spaniel. I also like Cocker Spaniels.
It is pretty damn cool to see the trees change from skinny brown to bright cherry-red to lean green over the course of two weeks. The way I see them, it's not so much that I'm looking at individual leaves -- that's hard -- but instead, especially in the breeze, one big moving organism.
I do like trees. And, to quote Lex Luthor, so does your average Cocker Spaniel. I also like Cocker Spaniels.
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