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Today is Easter, and as is our tradition, Roomie left me in bed while he hid Hershey's Kisses all over the living room for me to find. "Hid," is a tragic misnomer, since the Kisses are in plain sight so as not to be squished and lost in the crevices of the sofa, only to give off mutant killing spores three months later. I got out of bed, picked up my basket and gathered them up, and now I am eating them.
Is it odd that I still indulge in candy-hunting at twenty-eight? Maybe, but I don't care. The minute you finish growing up is the moment you start to die, and I am in no hurry to surrender my sense of wonder or end my long, strange love affair with the world. I'll still be hunting for candy at sixty, though perhaps chocolate will have given way to Geritol caplets and glycerin suppositories. I'll totter the halls, dragging my oxygen tank behind me as I peer inside cubbyholes and beneath coat racks in search of treasure, and when my fading mind inevitably starts to wander, I'll regale the nursing staff about the good old days when that handsome Detective Flack was on TV, and be consternated, indeed, when they don't want to hear about that one fantasy I had back in '08 that involved cuffs, a dog collar, and clotted cream.
And when they admonish me, I'll just smile gormlessly at them until it's time for my pudding.
On a totally unrelated note, I see poor Tiger Woods has incurred the wrath of the British wing of the Sooper Sekrit Crip Cabal for using the word "spaz" to describe his putting at the Masters. Oh, please. Might I suggest to my British brethren that they unclench their spastic buttcheeks and relax? Tiger had nothing to apologize for. While the term "spaz" is a derogatory term in the UK, it does not carry the same stigma here in the U.S. Here, a "spaz" refers to anyone who displays klutzy behavior. Since he was on American soil and presumably addressing the American public when he made the comment, I fail to see why the British disabled community felt itself deserving of an apology. He wasn't out to get them, nor did he hijack an international satellite signal and broadcast himself worldwide, drooling, scissoring on ungainly legs, and slurring, "Deeerrrrrrrr!"
It's little wonder that society at large doesn't heed the major concerns of the disabled community when we make mountains out of the most inconsequential molehills.
Get off my side. You're making it be stupid.
Is it odd that I still indulge in candy-hunting at twenty-eight? Maybe, but I don't care. The minute you finish growing up is the moment you start to die, and I am in no hurry to surrender my sense of wonder or end my long, strange love affair with the world. I'll still be hunting for candy at sixty, though perhaps chocolate will have given way to Geritol caplets and glycerin suppositories. I'll totter the halls, dragging my oxygen tank behind me as I peer inside cubbyholes and beneath coat racks in search of treasure, and when my fading mind inevitably starts to wander, I'll regale the nursing staff about the good old days when that handsome Detective Flack was on TV, and be consternated, indeed, when they don't want to hear about that one fantasy I had back in '08 that involved cuffs, a dog collar, and clotted cream.
And when they admonish me, I'll just smile gormlessly at them until it's time for my pudding.
On a totally unrelated note, I see poor Tiger Woods has incurred the wrath of the British wing of the Sooper Sekrit Crip Cabal for using the word "spaz" to describe his putting at the Masters. Oh, please. Might I suggest to my British brethren that they unclench their spastic buttcheeks and relax? Tiger had nothing to apologize for. While the term "spaz" is a derogatory term in the UK, it does not carry the same stigma here in the U.S. Here, a "spaz" refers to anyone who displays klutzy behavior. Since he was on American soil and presumably addressing the American public when he made the comment, I fail to see why the British disabled community felt itself deserving of an apology. He wasn't out to get them, nor did he hijack an international satellite signal and broadcast himself worldwide, drooling, scissoring on ungainly legs, and slurring, "Deeerrrrrrrr!"
It's little wonder that society at large doesn't heed the major concerns of the disabled community when we make mountains out of the most inconsequential molehills.
Get off my side. You're making it be stupid.
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