NPR did a story this morning on personal care attendants in Maryland, where the state pays them only five dollars an hour. That’s even less than the federal minimum wage of $5.15/hour. You can make more flipping burgers at McDonald’s than you can caring for a person with disabilities. In most states, PCAs are low-wage workers. In Minnesota, I think the average wage is $8-$10 per hour with few benefits and no chance in hell for a raise. Accordingly, the people who are attracted to PCA work tend to be the same people attracted to other low-wage jobs: college kids, newly-arrived immigrants, and people who simply don’t need/care to make much money. PCAs aren’t treated as professionals and their pay reflects that. This is an ongoing problem for both people with disabilities and their PCAs. Many PCAs provide extraordinary quality of care, but our society seems to regard this work with some degree of disdain.
If I had my way, PCAs would be trained and licensed professionals. A lot of people with disabilities disagree with me on the licensure thing, but I don’t see it as an onerous requirement. If we require hairdressers and truck drivers to be licensed, I don’t see why our standards should be lower for people providing personal care in someone’s home. The training wouldn’t have to be anything super intensive. But it should be enough to instill a sense a professionalism that is accompanied by a commensurate level of pay.

After the warm afterglow of the Republican sweep in November, the first cracks are beginning to show on the mighty monolith of GOP unity. Recent polls show that the party is splintering over issues such as Social Security, the “nuclear option” regarding judicial filibusters, and the recent federal intervention in the Schiavo case. Rising gas prices and the continuing legal troubles surrounding Tom DeLay aren’t helping to improve Republican morale. Then there are the clumsy threats against judges from the far right’s sock puppets in Congress. After the election, I consoled myself with the thought that if the Republicans were given enough rope, they would hang themselves. Perhaps this is the tying of the knot.

I love all things noir. Whether on film or in books, I love stories about shady people doing shady things in cities where the streets are always wet and the sun never shines. I love all the well-worn accouterments of noir; the tough-as-nails, hard-talking men, the dangerously seductive women, the rapidfire dialogue full of overwrought similes. I saw Sin City over the weekend and it’s apparent that the director shares the same love for noir. It’s noir on crystal meth; the movie has an almost insatiable appetite for violence, with a little sex thrown in for good measure. Visually, it closely adheres to the style of the comic books; stark black and white with splashes of color punctuating the scenery. In one early scene, a man is lighting a cigarette for a beautiful woman in a red dress. We see the red in her dress and in her lips, but when the flame of the lighter nears her face, her eyes briefly flare an intense green. It’s little touches like this that make the film a treat to watch.
One other thing. If I wrote a letter to Jessica Alba that included my picture and the claim that I have only six months left to live, do you think she would have dinner with me?

Beauty pageants should have died along with vinyl records and disco. But for some reason, they persist. And as long as there are beauty pageants, there will be scandal. The Wisconsin Miss Wheelchair has been dethroned after she was photographed standing up and the picture ran in a local newspaper. The woman in question has a form of muscular dystrophy and uses a scooter for mobility, but she can still stand. The pageant officials were miffed by this revelation and stripped her of her title. Silly, yes? The pageant officials seem to regard disability as an all-or-nothing proposition. Either you use a wheelchair or you don’t. Look, if you want to have a pageant for women with disabilities, fine. But the rigid requirement that your contestants be in wheelchairs all the time seems to fetishize the wheelchair to the point it’s a little creepy.

This whole brain-implants-for-gimps meme is really starting to take off. Now The Guardian has a story on it. Sure, it’s all good PR now, but what happens when some quad with an implant goes all Dr. Octopus and starts hijacking computer networks with his mind in his quest to take over the world? No more fuzzy human interest stories, I promise you.