The Disability Rag

"It’s so elegant, so intelligent" the disability rag and have I mentioned that its relentless? People who don’t have a disability tend to imagine that people with disabilities receive accommodations and then their lives go smoothly. Sometimes even those of us who are veteran disabled people allow ourselves to imagine this.

But "the disability rag" (hereafter referred to as the DR) is capricious like a boy’s unconscious. One moment you are using your fancy shmantzy talking computer and the next moment and without warning your computer has busted a transducer and not only that, but your white cane has snapped and you can’t find your cell phone. This is the DR.

In general the DR always happens when I’m having one of those ill advised moments of optimism because things are working so well. By God, my wonderful talking computer is making my work day into a form of temporal nobility. I feel almost classically adept at my negotiations. What an amazing world! I’m "working it" like those sighted people. It’s going so well.

DR.

The guide dog gets sick. The taxi doesn’t come. You miss an important meeting. The wings fall off. DR

Sometimes the unforeseen obstacle isn’t technical at all. It can be a human problem. I was once invited to appear on "The Oprah Winfrey Show" and as I was getting ready to board the plane to Chicago the airline announced that the flight was canceled. But there was no problem they assured us because they had a bus lined up to take us to an airport about 45 minutes away and they had rebooked all our tickets on a flight that would leave from there. Okay.

As I was attempting to board the bus with my guide dog, the driver, a surly fellow indeed, told me with far too much passion that I couldn’t get on the bus with the dog.

DR.

It didn’t matter that it was a guide dog. It didn’t matter that state and federal law guaranteed us the right to get on the bus. This driver couldn’t have cared less. He was unmovable.

My wife went and found a policeman. The policeman, who was around 14 years old didn’t know a thing about the Americans with Disabilities Act or the so-called "white cane laws" that guarantee access to public transportation by blind people with certified guide dogs. He sort of shrugged.

DR.

And while the driver and the cop were discussing their respective cluelessness I simply got on the bus.

(Once you’re "on the bus" they will have to forcibly remove you. I figured this would look bad in court if things ever went that far.)

The driver got on the bus. He was silent. He drove to LaGuardia airport in New York.

After about twenty five minutes he said: "I’ve got a disability."

DR.

It turned out he was a Viet Nam veteran.

He said he was sorry.

He told me about the shrapnel in his legs.

I told him that disability rights in the United States have been secured with the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act and that the Viet Nam veterans played a major role in pushing for the legislation.

DR.

This Disability Rag contains circles within circles. And they’ll roll over you when you least expect it.

S.K.