After months of thinking about it, I finally picked up a stereo/iPod dock for my bedroom. This Onkyo model was on sale at Amazon and it includes a radio and CD player (just in case I ever want to listen to any of the half-dozen CDs still lying around my house). It sounds great, but I’m trying to be responsible with the volume so as not to incur the wrath of the neighbors. Navigating the iPod menus with the remote can be a little tricky, but every gizmo has its quirks. Now I just need to program it to wake me up with Crowded House’s “Don’t Dream”.
I frequently log into my work network from home to compose an e-mail or finish a project that I didn’t get to while I was at the office. And for whatever reason, the word prediction on my on-screen keyboard doesn’t work with my employer’s web interface. As a result, I have to type out e-v-e-r-y l-e-t-t-e-r of every word I’m writing. It slows me down a bit, but my neck muscles are getting awfully buff. My ginormous head doesn’t feel quite as heavy as it once did. Girls can’t resist a thick, muscular neck, right? Or, at least, a neck that is slightly less scrawny than the rest of me.
A coalition of disability organizations is organizing a boycott of the film Tropical Thunder. They object to the film’s frequent use of the word “retard”. By default, I tend to be suspicious of any film boycott, whatever the motivation. In this case, I agree that “retard” is an ugly word, but it seems inconsistent to single out this movie when shows like South Park and even The Daily Show use it just as liberally.
The boycott’s organizers make the argument that “retard” is just as offensive as racial epithets. But I’m not sure the comparison is justified. Racial epithets have long histories of derogatory use. But even today, “retarded” is a common descriptor of people with cognitive disabilities in some medical and social service circles. There isn’t much distance between “retarded” and “retard”. The organizers might consider giving equal scorn to the medical professionals and bureaucrats who continue to perpetuate the word’s use in polite society.
A few months ago, I wrote an article for a newsletter called Ventilator-Assisted Living describing my own experiences as I transitioned to the vent life. You can find it by going here and then clicking on the article entitled “A Life Less Ordinary” (it’s a PDF file). And I need to Photoshop the accompanying photo; that earring is starting to look a bit dated.
Today marks the last day of my summer staycation. Having a week off does weird things to my internal calendar. Towards the end of the week, I had to make a conscious effort to remember what day it was. I did manage to make it to the lake, catch up on some reading, and generally loaf about. In other words, mission accomplished. Next year, I might even take two weeks off.
Media coverage of the Olympics is likely to crowd out news of other world events for the next couple weeks, including the escalating war between Russia and Georgia. After years of turning inward (and becoming increasingly authoritarian), Russia seems ready to flex its muscles again. It will never regain its former superpower status, but with its substantial stockpiles of oil, natural gas, and nukes, Russia can still throw its weight around; a fact that is probably causing plenty of Western diplomats to lose sleep tonight.
Time for another glimpse into my current musical obsessions:
- “Chariot” by Page France — I first heard this song during an episode of Weeds and remained stuck in my head afterwards. It has a playful indie vibe that doesn’t fall into the trap of taking itself too seriously.
- “Cherry Tulips” by Headlights — This gorgeous song hearkens back to an era of jukeboxes and AM radio, when kids still used the phrase “making out” without any hint of irony.
- “Standing Next to Me” by The Last Shadow Puppets — Another song dressed up in retro clothing, this time in the mod stylings of early Sixties British pop. It makes me think of miniskirts and knee-high boots. Can you tell I’m a very lonely man?
- “Anywhere” by The Presets — This propulsive, melancholy bit of electronica is too moody for the dancefloor, but it’s just the thing for chilling out late at night.
I was returning home from a walk this afternoon when I noticed several emergency response vehicles heading towards the riverfront. Curious, I headed down there myself to see what was going on. I couldn’t see much from where we were standing, but my nurse said he witnessed a rescue boat in the waters near the Stone Arch Bridge and someone being placed on a gurney. I checked the local news sites for any mention of the incident, but found nothing.
Just another day in the big city.
Could I be any more of a cliche? This is me modeling my new pair of Birkenstocks. I’ll be wearing these for the big summer picnic that the local chapter of the Godless Pinko Public Radio Boosters throws every year. Just wearing these makes me want to write a letter to the editor extolling the virtues of organic farming. And they’re quite comfy in a decadent, liberal sort of way.

Via The Gimp Parade, here’s a Houston Press article discussing the challenges facing young adults with disabilities who are aging out of the pediatric care system. While this really isn’t a new phenomenon, the piece does a good job of explaining the institutional biases that are still the norm in many states. For example, many state Medicaid programs will not provide private duty nursing services after age 21 and will only cover the costs of institutional care. Families are suing states like Texas in efforts to get the services that will keep their sons and daughters in the community and not warehoused in facilities.
The article goes on to describe how some hospitals and clinics serving kids and teens with disabilities are doing more to prepare them for the transition to adult lives of independence and employment. I could think of a few Minnesota-based hospitals that might want to consider implementing similar programs. But the real changes will have to come from the bureaucrats. And speaking as a bureaucrat, I can tell you that we’re not always ones at the bleeding edge of social change.
Further evidence that the world is astonishingly small: Steve Elliot, the attorney interviewed for the article, was one of my mentors when I clerked at the Minnesota Disability Law Center many years ago.
