Ever since my first lonely Christmas in 2003, I have felt a bit out of touch with this holiday. Not in the truest sense of its meaning, of course, but in that it had mostly no longer corresponded with family and the giving and receiving of gifts. As I drew closer to my now wife, this orientation of mine caused perhaps the biggest stumbling block in our budding relationship in 2016. It was a point made to me then, and after that and on all subsequent Christmas occasions I’ve been working to regain that holiday spirit in full. The way their family does it certainly helps, and probably no more so than this year in that idyllic beach setting.

The Gift Exchange

After making our slightly groggy way from the bed following a long conversation with our friend the night before (I did not even manage to read any this morning which made me fear not completing the 60-book challenge I had created for myself), we headed downstairs to take advantage of the hotel’s complimentary breakfast. I only really wanted some of the scrambled eggs, which, as I figured, were not particularly good. But, they did enough to keep me going till the next, major, meal. I was surprised by how many others were there

A short while later, it was time for us to head for her mom and dad’s room for the fun. We had already gotten each other’s stuff: I a nice Samsonite bag for her (because we love traveling) and she a fresh and clean black suit for me (because I need more stuff to dress in). From her great family, I got an Uber gift card (yay free rides!) and an Amazon card (yay a free… whatever else I want!) Haha. I also received a new belt, a light but soft jacket that will be good for dry but slightly warmer days; and a wireless charging station. All very practical things that I can really use, probably especially on our upcoming anniversary trip to Miami. I enjoyed listening to my nephew and niece romping around with their new toys, one of the coolest being a remote-control car that could roll on the wall. The little kid in me would have loved that toy. Finally, well in truth before I opened the gifts, I sucked down an delicious piece of homemade chocolate cake.

The Walk of Torture

And that cake was cooked just a few short minutes later. That lack of sleep really catching up with me, I thought I was going to grab a little shut-eye before heading to Medieval Times. But my wonderful wife had other plans. She apparently usually takes a six-mile or so walk up and down the beach on Christmas morning that had mostly been done alone. But this time, I got to be included. I actually mostly enjoyed it, and it sure showed me how much I need to work out. We headed South at a brisk pace along the sliding sand, strutting all the way to the pier that contains the Myrtle Beach Sky wheel. The weather was fantastic again, and the wind and sun felt good on my face. However, I probably was not necessarily breathing as well as I should have, and not maintaining the best posture. So by about halfway through, I was gasping and wondering if my legs would give out.

We opted to head back to the hotel on the street/pavement side, thinking it might be easier. I am not sure if it was easier, or if I would have just been turned into a sweaty pile of goo in any event. We crossed about 10 streets and passed mostly closed businesses, and I tried thoughts, magic, anything to will that hotel to come toward me! By the time we reached the lobby, I just about literally had to be dragged in. The walk took about 75 minutes in total, and all I could do was drain a bottle of water and collapse into bed. WHEW!

The Final, Food-filled Show

I had to get going about two hours later, at around 4 PM, so we could head to the Medieval Times Dinner and Tournament Restaurant. Built like a castle with a wooden bridge spanning a fake mote, this arena hosts knights on horses who fight for the title of the Queen’s Champion. The sow’s essence had recently changed, perhaps becoming less complicated. They use fake swords and jousts, and I”m told act somewhat badly in falling off of the horse, but the joy of it is mostly in cheering wildly for your color-coded knight. We were the blue and Whites, and we happened to win! There were seven sides in all. They also released a live falcon for the falconry exhibit, and everyone was required to stay still as he soared overhead lest an accidental attack be launched. A little unnerving, and especially to our niece I’m told, as her eyes widened in an “I don’t know about this” manner.

This stuff was fairly visual, and my enjoyment mostly came from feeling like I was at a sporting event. The real deal for me though was the food. Served through the course of the show, we received a bowl of tomato bisque soup that we slurped down (no silverware as that didn’t exist in medieval times and outer bowls), a half a delicious herb-seasoned chicken, half a potato, and pound cake for dessert. We were given Pepsi to consume, and I somehow doubt that existed then either. But then most of what had been portrayed had been either. Only a few of these facilities are open, mainly in major cities. So it’s pretty cool to have one in Myrtle.

As soon as we returned to the hotel, we went back to my old friend’s room for a round 2. Her husband went to get more wine, since that seemed to be a particularly strong point for us. The talk between the couples went o merrily for almost another 2 and a half hours, before we finally retired.

And that was my trip to Myrtle Beach. I am definitely looking forward to several more years of enjoyment in these new (to me) traditions as they become established ones, however that will look.

Do you think that spending Christmas at a South Carolina beach is strange? Because before i did sio, I had. But then again, our warming climate, sometimes even exceeding 70 degrees this time of year, it actually felt great. And the hotels cost next to nothing.

My wife had been telling me for years about this thing her family (usually her three sisters, mom, dad, brother-in-law, and their kids) do when they make their way down to Myrtle for three days to lounge, exchange gifts, and have dinner at Medieval Times. Ideally, I will get to all of these within this post. But if it goes on too long, I’ll get to part II.

The First Chill Day Together

After spending a great day in Lumberton North Carolina with friends and attending church there on Sunday, we decided it made the most sense to continue down to the beach and check into our room, this despite everyone else moving their booking day to Monday. Or perhaps because of it, as who turns down a chance for a nice day with just each other.

Another fallacy that makes most of us think going down there is strange at this time of year is that one must spend most beach time in the ocean. On Sunday, we didn’t even take a walk down there. We took a nice meal at the Olive Garden, where I had my usual spaghetti with meat sauce and two sausages, along with their flavorful salad and a decadent brownie lasagna. She got the Chicken Alfredo and lemon cream cake. The rest of the night, after a fairly tiring travel day, was given over to relaxation: reading, watching TV, and collapsing at 10:30. And it is rather fortunate that we did, because this is about all the “quiet” we had.

Christmas Eve Coincidences

Monday rolled in and we out of bed by 8:30. I had actually risen earlier to do yet more reading, basically my last of the trip, then did a little radio station browsing as usual. and finally down to Hot Stacks, of which I think there are only a few in the fairly immediate area, and a tradition along with the aforementioned restaurant whenever she and I visit this gaudy tourist town. The breeze we felt on stepping from the vehicle in front of our hotel made it seem that ocean strolling might be a bad idea, however when we opted to brave it anyway we found that there was less breeze than perceive bed, and walking in the sun felt great. We headed north for approximately 1.2 miles then turned back, encountering more people than I had expected. Apparently, visiting the beach on Christmas is not just not strange but actually quite popular. There are some drawbacks though, most notably the lax housekeeping. All their very limited staff had done was to dump our trash and removed the used towels, without even supplying us with new ones. We pointed this out to the receptionist, she apologized, and all that was done to fix it was another stack being slapped on the room’s desk. So we basically didn’t even bother with trying to get service on Christmas.

The other side of service issues is that, we assume, people are grouped into a small area of the hotel. So for instance, our room was only two doors down from one of her sisters, and even cooler, our childhood friend whom we knew would be coming happened not only to have booked into our hotel, but was housed in one of the large apartment-sized rooms in the other tower, but right next to her parents. This made late-night conversation with our friend after Han ginghams with the family very easy.

But before I go there, I should note where we chose to eat. Finding a Christmas Eve restaurant that stays open after 6 was more difficult than I had thought. Initially, we had planned to go to Magnolia Cafe on 26th Street, which was practically right next door to the Carolinian Resort where we were housed on Ocean Boulevard, but they were about to close and we didn’t wish to scrape the bottom of the buffet barrel. After some frantic searching we settled on Paula Deen’s Family Kitchen. I think there are even fewer of these locations, and not surprisingly, most are in the South. And oh, man! That food was insane. The meals are served family-style, meaning that three meats and four sided are chosen by the table and served in bowls, from which each person fixes a plate by rotating a Lazy Susanb turntable. We had meatloaf, fried chicken, pot roast, Mac and cheese, yams, cream corn rice I think, and some other vegetable I cannot recall. I had meatloaf, Mac and cheese, and cream corn. And believe you me that was enough! I was so full I was nearly bent double. This with one of those ridiculous cheesy biscuits, sweet tea, and a dessert of Vanilla pudding was still nearly too much. The food was delicious but it is not a meal I would eat too often.

We wrapped up the evening by chatting with our friend and her husband for nearly 3 hours. It was nice to connect with another couple and expand our perspectives a bit. We also expanded our knowledge of wine, as a couple of different kinds were tried and much fun was had in so doing. And yes, this will be continued in Part II.

Interesting subcultures exists all around us, of which we can remain blissfully unaware. Such was my inclination when it came to the musicianship, dedication, and teamwork involved in playing handbells. That’s right, handbells.

Hav you heard of a group called the Raleigh Ringers? Am I the only one who hadn’t? According to their website, linked above, they started in Raleigh in 1990 and in addition to playing all over the world, they educate people in the area on the art of handbell ringing. They have also created several albums and had some of their traditional Raleigh concerts aired on public television.

My wife, ink searching for something holiday-themed to do in the area, came across this group and remember viewing them on PBS at some point, so she decided she would go. On top of that, we would make it a family outing by inviting her mother, whom is a big Raleigh Ringers fan; her sister, and father to join us on Saturday the 16th at the Meymandi Concert Hall downtown. I was just curious to see what this would sound like.

The show began at approximately 3 PM, with the venue at about 75% of capacity on a moderately cool and foggy day. The sounds were amazing, but probably because I am listening through hearing aids that alter them anyway it was something of a challenge for me to tell which songs they were playing. Well that and of course some of the songs I just plain didn’t know anyway. I still enjoyed the rhythm of the bells, even learning that there were big, bass bells as well.

From what I’m told, the visual aspect was pretty amazing too. They have to quickly pick out the correct bells for a sound, sometimes striking them with a mallet and other times making it ring through some other means. There were approximately 12 Ringers, split roughly between men and women. I think one of the most complex tunes they played was their take on the Twelve Days of Christmas, during which they had to keep count of each additional piece and use indicators so that the audience would be aware of the numbers that were about to play. It all sounded rather impressive.

My wife and her sister joked that I slept for much of the show, but oh ok I did fade out a little in spots. I’m pretty sure that I heard the entire thing though. I imagine that some of my disconnect occurred precisely because I was unable to take in the visual content. I did enjoy the comedic elements though, such as the hand clappers (hand clappers?) who would clap on cue during some of the performances, and the part where Mr. Grinch comes on stage to steal Christmas. It was, on the whole, a fairly entertaining show.

Afterwards, we opted to do what any urban planner must surely hope we would: go out for dinner at Raleigh’s relatively new Morgan Street Food Hall. This food court, a la Boston’s Quincy Market and Philadelphia’s Reading Terminal, serves as a surprisingly popular gathering spot already after its four-month existence. Perhaps too popular, as parking and seating are extremely limited. On the latter, once we collected our meals, I a “fish and chips”, my wife a shrimp and fish and chips, and her mom and sister something similar, we spent almost 5 minutes searching for a table. Ultimately, we chose stools lining a ledge, until her sister somehow commandeered enough space at a table for us all. This table obviously made for better communication as we could sit across from each other rather than in a line.

The food was good I suppose. I liked the seasoning on the fries, a slightly sweeter rather than salty variety. I had been given many of them, since fish and shrimp stocks were running low. The fish was less desirable to me, because it had bones in it. I find it hard to really dig in when I must cautiously consume my food so I don’t end up sucking down foreign objects. I will try something different on my return to this location.

My wife says this place works best for couples and not as well for families because of the difficulties in finding group seating. And we all agreed that it is a good step in Raleigh’s urbanization, but that it will be better once the city has more parking decks downtown and/or a more robust public transportation option such as light rail.

We hope to take these kinds of outings more often, as there is much to see. I encourage you to make a go at being a tourist in your own town as well. Have you gone to any holiday shows this year?

Am I the only one who is still too addicted to the Facebook Memories section? I keep saying every year that I will stop looking, because I already hav. But as I’ve noted before, we humans, or at least this human, has a real thing for nostalgia; pondering where this life has come from and to where it is going.

To that end, when I saw the note from Facebook that I had graduated from Queens a year ago (it went official on December 15 but who’s counting) I laughed because I had recently asked some of my former classmates to complete a questionnaire where they could note their thoughts as well. I have included their responses, as well as my own, in a table pasted below. Three of the five persons whose information I still had chose to respond, so while small, it does give a good sample of the various takeaways from this experience. I have anonymized them and numbered them where they appeared alphabetically in my responders, which is why you see Student 1, Student 3, Student 5. Check it out.

So, as you can see many of us feel that while our exact aims have yet to be achieved, both the experience was with it and it will certainly help us going forward. I do know that one can never be too tech savvy these days. As quickly as this stuff changes, it’s probably already a little different even from what we learned. That speaks to the need to keep working on skill sets and mindsets as we learn to fully compete in this new, heck really kind of overwhelming job market. Because whether we like it or not, much of our interaction will be at least partly online, and thus requires a slightly different way of thinking in order to persevere.

In thinking of all this, I realized I hadn’t done my usual Job Days post since returning to LCI (They’re no longer calling it LC Industries because that title makes less sense when offering tech services which they hope to do soon) earlier this year. Truthfully, my current “job” is harder to nail down than ever. Whereas I pretty much lived in light sticks, (See Job Days No. 5), I now do anything from PML’s (I don’t even know what those are except that I stick a pen through them) to packaging flatware, to, most recently, medical kitting. This last features an assembly line where we put together different kinds of bag (IFAK as I always hear her say, I’m guessing that means International First-Aid Kit?) at a relatively high speed. I also have packed tourniquets (who knows if I’m spelling that right), and other small bags containing medical products. I suppose this is the most important thing I’ve done in there, as this stuff is used to save lives in Iraq and other places where US troops are active. We also provide material to refugees in Syria.

< [>If O do remain at LCI over tie, I am looking forward to taking what I learned in graduate school in to training there and perhaps doing some kind of ciustomer services work. But other than that, I might really like to get back onto a college campus and maybe be employed in a disability Services office. Many possible doors are opening as 2018 winds down, so who knows.

In closing, I want to thank those who took the time to participate in my little survey. It certainly helps me think about what I gained from grad school attendance and how it might benefit me going forward. I hope it has done the same for you, and look forward to great things for us all.

As I have no doubt said before, marriage represents not just a bonding of two individuals, but also an expansion of family. In some cultures, they intentionally arrange such unions for this express purpose, but here we match up for various reasons, and so one is never sure what the enmeshing of family will indeed look like.

If any day is likely to bring out potential family drama, it seems to be Thanksgiving. I’m sure that whole novels have been composed based on the angst that can occur when that turkey and stuffing are placed on crowded table and people smash themselves into small spaces after having driven or flown many miles to a place they may not really want to be. (I had a NaNoWriMo novel based partially on that premise that I should really dig up and revise). Anyhow, that is beside the point of this entry.

Fortunately for us, our two families get along famously, at least the parts that have come into contact with each other. Still, it had not occurred to my wife and me when we began planning to host our first Thanksgiving at the 1800 or so square foot townhome that our assumed 10 people, (her side of the family) would swell to 17 to 20 as some from my side indicated a wish to attend as well. This admittedly caused a minor panic as we pondered how to find the right amount of tables and chairs, and if the space available could even be configured to hold such a gathering. Of course, there was no need for concern.

To solve the tables and chairs issue, she had the ingenious idea to rent them from a nearby place that does such things. Short of that, we were going to just by. bunch of extra furniture that we wouldn’t really need in most cases and would just have to shove into storage downstairs. Lots of unnecessary money and space would have been taken. The tables and chairs did take up her entire car, but the facility had helped in getting them all in and we had one used to offloading trucks and the like to remove them on this end. So that was not a problem. Getting them into the house though required moving the love seat and kitchen table a bit, and when this was done I was actually surprised by how much space we had. I’m definitely not a spatial person, so I leave that kind of stuff to the pros.

My other concern was as a relatively new dad. Ok I’m joking here, but if you want the full reference on that check the previous entry. I feared our “daughter” would have a minor meltdown with so many people chattering and moving around in this place, as she’s not a big fan of noise. She came through with flying colors though, being unusually willing to chill with people she hadn’t met previously and only yapping a couple of times, more when neighbors did something than when it happened here.

And we certainly did plenty of chattering as we always do in this situation. I knew it would be the first significant test since I had the new aids adjusted, as happened in an appointment a couple weeks ago. I needed a little more bass to the sound, and to have some of the distortion removed from it (which I had been told was purposeful as it could help make voices clearer). Now I’m contemplating whether I should have left it. Today’s experience was.. ok? Well as usual I could hear near nothing on my right side. This ear is used almost exclusively for balance purposes though. On my left side, well let’s just say I hung in there. But constant, overflowing conversation will probably just always be a challenge for me. I accept this and hopefully those closest to me are ok with it as well.

When I did talk, it was of course mostly about sports and food. On the former, we watched a bit of the traditional Detroit Lions game (and their traditional loss) until dinner began, at which time they turned on a gospel playlist. And the latter is of course the core of this holiday. I mostly try not to overeat, so I simply enjoyed a piece of chicken, stuffing, green beans with a couple of potatoes, Mac and cheese (gotta have that!) and rice. I also had a delicious cup of koolade, which takes me back to my childhood. This was grape and pineapple flavored, and I could definitely taste the pineapple influence. Good stuff. Dessert will be consumed shortly after I compose this article, and I’m just enjoying dragging out the moment of pleasure until I sink my teeth into something, the likes of which I still haven’t chosen. We have two kinds of sweet potato pie, chocolate cake, strawberry cake, I think some pound cake and maybe some pecan pie. MMM!

So the day was a wonderful success, with my always hard-working wife doing her best to make it so. My folks especially have few gatherings of this nature, so it would be great if this begins a new tradition for us, although I’m not entirely sure if we will host every iteration of it. That first experience was memory-making though. To all Americans, I hope you had an equally pleasant Thanksgiving with friends and family, and I of course keep in mind those who for whatever reason were not as able to do so. Till next year!

This post is about the slow-developing, but now unconditional, love between dog and human. I am fortunate to have so many different animals to whom I have become attached during my life, and think they can teach this fractured (human) world a whole lot about being willing to learn about that which we perceive as different but which might end up changing our lives beyond measure.

I remember our first encounter. On the day my now wife and I made our first real, in-person connection, she brought you over to where I was sitting. You took about 15 seconds to look at me, and decide you did not want a part of that, scampering off to whatever else had been holding your interest.

“It’s ok,” I told myself: “often a new entrant into an already established relationship takes some, shall we say, getting used to.

That initial meeting happened in February of 2015, on Valentine’s, the day of love in fact, and as I came around in March, April, July and August, your curiosity slowly won out and you had to come and see who this person was that always hangs with “mama!” Tentatively at first, then with a building aggression, you pressed up against me, checked out my hands and concluded that you enjoyed them, and, one cold November day, told us both that my presence had been approved by kissing our interlinked hands. I knew in my body that this occurrence was profound, because you, and for that matter most of your kind, have a great ability to pick up on people’s vibes, whether hidden or expressed.

After that great November day, you hardly allow me to sit alone on the couch without “asking for” well “demanding,” physical contact. The longer we have been together, the more you seem to want to be around. You used to at least stay away during times when “mama” and I are chatting or otherwise engaged, but now if you sense that she is on the phone or not talking to me, you’ll make your presence known till I either pet your head from above or, best of all, get onto the floor with you.

I can tell that you enjoy this kind of play, as well as the strange sounds I make, as your entire body expresses the amusement and joy with shaking and pants. As long as the sounds are expected, that is. When we get too silly, you scamper off to your safe place and hunker down until sanity prevails.

Who says that one’s “kids” must be part of the same species. In our opinion, she is our kid because she provides something tangible to love, entertain and, to some extent anyway, protect us. She is a seven-pound Pomeranian we call Boo Boo, and she turns 8 this Halloween. That’s 56 in dog years, so yeah technically older than I am by a few. But as all parents say, “you’re never too old to be my kid”.

So here’s to many more years, we hope, so long as you don’t eat anything strange and enjoy life. And to al others who’s kids have four legs instead of two, I salute you. Woof woof!

After seven years of my Little Blue Boxes, change was definitely in order. Yes those boxes served me well over their life, and I managed to make them last longer than they might otherwise hav. But what I failed to realize, as I almost always do when used to my hearing situation, is how much I had lost.

All of the paperwork cleared up and aids purchased, I finally, somewhat excitedly, scheduled the appointment to acquire my new aids on Monday. It’s weirdly like a kid on Christmas, having been accompanied by the knowledge that this change might make it easier to function in work, social, and other similar areas.

These aids are still Phonak, what sounded when the audiologist read them like a string of letters and numbers that, she says, means they’re “really good”. We get them in, with my new molds that seem to fit fine, with no issue. They feel as my loaner aid had: skinnier and with a single volume control on the back of each. Like my previous Phonak though, and I would guess most modern aids, they work together to ensure that I have the best hearing profile in any place I night find myself. They also use the same batteries, sized 675, that seem to power my loaner for nearly a month apiece. As she points out though, these aren’t likely to last that long due to their sharing power and the like. I am ok with that, but curious how long they will indeed last.

When turned on, the first thing I said was “the sound is just cleaner”. By this, I think I meant that there was less vocal distortion? I’m not exactly up on all the correct audio terms, but it just seems more natural to me somehow. The other aids had a lot of bass, but they tended to blend everything together far more than what I am currently experiencing. I was happy to have T-Coil back on both, and the ability to listen to the phone and headphones played through both aids, even if held only to one ear.

And then for the fun part, a venture into the larger world. I was kind of bummed that my Uber driver really did not say much, as I wanted to see if theyb would be more effective when cruising on the Interstate. But in going to work today, I found that I could much more easily har conversations on the bus, and even being in this typically loud workshop was not too bad. Finally, watching TV at home and holding another conversation now presents fewer difficulties. I know that the real fun will occur when I go to a restaurant, wherein I can in theory put the aids into Background mode and hopefully be able to hear a lot more. I am anxious to see how that goes.

And that’s about all I have on that front. Everything’s still being evaluated at this point, but I am thus far quite pleased with what I am getting. No aid will ever completely approximate natural sound, but this one is so close that it reminds me of what I have ben missing for so many years.

O how they blow, the mighty winds of change. Isn’t there some sort of poem that starts that way? I don’t know, but the idea of wind changing physical and personal landscapes goes way back, I’m sure.

Three years ago this time, I stood along the shores at North Carolina’s Wrightsville Beach, listening to the waves’ roar for the first time in 13 years and marveling at how tiny I felt. As you read this, I hope that beautiful beach is avoiding total destruction by what had been one of the largest hurricanes ever to take a shot at us. (NOTE: I’m writing this on Wednesday night and setting it to run at the time of my birth, and thus I am not exactly sure what this mammoth storm has in fact done). While it does seem to be weakening some, its size and hurricane-force winds are increasing. I am sure there will be property damage as a result, but I pray that is all that is lost. Stuff can be replaced, lives can’t. Of course I understand there are myriad reasons why some folks were not able to evacuate, and I just hope the best for them.

When thinking about it, I am actually surprised that, at least according to my fallible memory, I’ve never experienced a hurricane on my birthday. It lies smack dab in the middle of peak season, which our WRAL newscasters say is September 10. Hurricanes have, however, followed my trips to the beach. There was of course the infamous Hugo in 1989, which happened right after my family’s first trip to Myrtle Beach, really the first such family trip that I’m aware of at all. I’ve written about that some in my post about our last most recent hurricane, Matthew.

Floyd struck in 99, right after a trip I and others took to Ocean Isle Beach wherein we were given nice rooms in two condos overlooking the sea. Fortunately though, I was too far inland to feel much of anything from that storm though, other than a nice breeze on an otherwise sunny day.

The combination of potentially life-altering storms and a birthday create a situation rife for reflection. While I would much prefer that the physical winds of change have little to no lasting mark, I do hope my figurative winds are about to change things to something I can barely imagine. The push for new employment is at an all-time high, as I’m working with the DSB counselor I mentioned a couple of entries ago. Ideas simmer and calcify, but as of yet the finished product has not emerged. It’s challenging, as it is for most of us adults these days. As I enter my 40th year (turn 39 years old, because we say that wrong) I find myself pondering what “society” would say I should have accomplished at this point.

• Get married, Checked, though later than most
• Have 2.5 children, Unchecked, and not likely to be. I don’t know about the poor child who’d have me as a parent
• Have that house in a cul-d-sac, with said kids and a cute yapping dog, mostly unchecked, but the little dog is present. Homeownership may or may not happen
• Have figured out what to do with life!, unchecked, This was easier in previous generations as people took whatever they could find and stay for 35 years. I guess now though it means entering a career path and finding how many ways to play that out.

So happy birthday to me! I guess I’ll enjoy whatever’s left of the sun, then hunker down with a good book or five and hope we manage not to float away. If you are anywhere near Florence, please stay safe and seek shelter if you need it.

You’re at work. The place is teeming with people, like yourself, who are totally or partially blind. Lunchtime arrives, and the mad dash for the break room begins, so that you and everyone else might take advantage of the narrow 30-minute window for eating that really ends up being like 15 if you do any kine of preparation (hand-washing, bladder relief, a snack machine visit).

As you round the most congested corner, with visions of peanut butter crackers dancing in your head, you hear a frightening sound. The person bounces off and keeps going, with a perfunctory apology, but the more worrying thing is the alarming noise your cane, which admittedly is already over two years of age, makes. *wobble, wobble* it goes as you tentatively step forward and try to continue. “Oh, great” you think.

This was the scenario that confronted me this past fine Friday. Similar have happened in much more challenging places, like at street crossings where motorists moved so slowly that I was unable to pick up the automobile until its tires rolled over the cane (and thankfully not my toe!). But still, I was annoyed.

The first thing that occurred to me is that if someone managed to bend it so easily with only their leg/shoe/whichever met the cane, I could probably at least make it serviceable but levering it against a chair in front of me with it stuck under the caster and pulling as hard as possible. This did work, reducing the bend such that I could safely navigate outside at the end of the day. But it still feels very tenuous, at best.

So my second idea was to bring up the trusty Amazon app and type “Folding Cane” into the search. After sifting through all of the walking sticks, I located one made specifically for blind people. Distributed, I think, by a seller called Visionu, it only cost me $22. And because my wife is a Prime member and I’ve been included in the household, I could get it delivered to me by today, Sunday.

“Great,” I thought. “I could have my new cane before I even need to go back to work.” This all worked as advertised.

And what you might ask, do I make of the new cane? Well, it’s pretty much the right length, if a little long. But where canes are concerned it’s generally better to have longer than shorter anyway. The other small issue with it is that the pieces don’t fit as snuggly as I might like. This means that, especially if I’m tapping it as they want me to do in the workshop, the cane will slide a little apart at each joint. Not a huge deal, but it could be annoying when walking over bumpy areas, though I suppose its rolling tip should mitigate some of this.

While my little experiment maybe didn’t go as well as I would have liked it is still cool to have such technology available that makes it possible to, in a pinch, quickly replace very important hardware. This stuff has of course been great for us blind folk, from easy ride-hailing services to much-expanded grocery delivery, the latter of which I especially wish had existed to a greater extent when I lived alone. They had a local delivery company called Raleigh-Durham Deliveries, but they charged a $15 fee, and the prices for products were significantly higher as well. They were unfortunately not able to scale as well as they might have liked, and so went out of business. This was in 2010, before the smartphone revolution that has really brought everyone onboard with a more delivery-based shopping system really took off.

Ultimately I am still glad I got this cane in that manner, and will make use of it if I find it possible to do so.

And I finally arrive with the much-delayed second entry covering our Fourth International Norrie Conference. The primary reason for its lateness is a yucky cold I developed that Tuesday for which I blame the airplane, or rather, the passenger who, I have no doubt, said “I paid $200 for this ticket so I’m going even though I’m hacking up a lung!” The consequences for that when one is sealed in a tube are great. But alas, I have recovered. The second reason for my not having written yet will likely be discussed in future posts.

If this works, I think you should be able to hear a YouTube playlist of the conference’s first day by clicking that link. I suppose that should at least take you to the page where the files are housed.

That Friday, ok what I can remember of it, begins at the bright and early time of 6:30 AM. I take the first position in getting ready, and hey it’s always hardest to drag oneself out of bed when the other is still lying there. Cleansed, I slip into my new, presidential! outfit of a button-down shirt and slacks. Then, as my wife makes her way through the morning routine, I make a couple of passes through my prepared remarks once more to try and feel a little more comfortable with them.

This all done, we make our way towards the conference venue, which for the first time is in a different location: the O’Kefe Auditorium in the main Massachusetts General Hospital. This takes some finding and more walking than our usual facility, a room on the 3rd floor of the Simches Building, but after a slightly unnerving walk through revolving doors, (I’m not the only one who gets a bit claustrophobic in there right? I mean what if they get stuck or someth9ing!) and a maze of hallways, we come across familiar faces. They have a continental breakfast available, and I opt for a blueberry muffin and orange juice. Knowing my constitution, I defer coffee until the break after I have spoken.

People slowly, sleepily file in, including two more of my family members: my Aunt and cousin. I think there were about 50 of us in total, a normal-sized audience for our small but growing conferences. At approximately 9 AM, I head to the front of the room and begin. After some fiddling with the microphone, I kind of wonder if I was too close to it after all as it kind of sounds like I’m eating it on the Youtube link (ah well), I start with my silliness.

“Fellow officers, board members, family and friends I hereby welcome you to the State of the NDA. Oh wait, I’m… not that kind of president.”

This gets the anticipated laughs. Yes we will be discussing serious topics but I always believe that starting things off with a little humor helps people feel more at ease, loosened if you will. And that is a good thing. I continue by introducing each board member and giving a remark about them: Kasey, our tireless secretary who was so much more, Allison the treasurer and speaker organizer, Nate the technology potential guy, Mark the magic webmaster, Ramsey the out-of-the-box thinker when out comes to place, Wendy the International outreach person, and Jan, the last original and now former board member. I am happy to have worked with these folks for as long as I have. Then I discussed the good of the Norrie Disease Support Group on Facebook and talked about what I learned from my Capstone, which was a strategic Communication plan for the Norrie Disease Association. And, I was done, and could relax!

Next, we have what I’m starting to find is the most exciting part of the conference, our keynote speaker. We usually find someone with Norrie who is doing great things, and this year Michael Forzano, creator of RS games and worker at Amazon, spoke for nearly an hour on how he got to where he is. Of special note his participation in boyscoutsl My cousin and I did cub scouts at least, and we were fortunate to find that people didn’t really treat us any differently either. I remember three highlighted of my experience as such: riding an old train, attending a Nascar race, and creating paper airplanes. As Forzano points out, it is very important for blind kids to be teased normally and exposed to as much as possible so that we can function in the big, real world. I appreciate that Forzano keeps it real with us noting that there were some pretty significant struggles along that road too independence. I think this lets people know that it’s ok if one experiences these, but that one can keep going and go much farther than thought possible.

Most of the rest of Friday is given to more Norrie-Related talks. We hear about gene therapy advancements in hearing and balance with Dr. Cory, introduction to Ocular Prosthetics by Kurt Jarhling, and behavioral supports for students by Matt Edwards. I know that Dr. florian Eichler spoke as well, but I am unsure of what as I cannot find it on the YouTube link. I believe it was on continuing the research on Norrie that Dr. Katherine Simms had been doing before him. Again, check out the playlist to hear more as it would take me ages to fully delineate each of those talks. They were great, though.

Coffee is had at the first break, nearly 10 AM, then a boxed lunch of a Caesar Chicken Wrap is consumed at 12. After lunch, we get up and stroll around the facilities, with my wife noting in particular the beauty of the hospital’s chapel. I am mostly just glad to be moving.

Once this long day of conferencing concludes around 4, we decide to go ahead and get our Boston stroll in before retiring to the room for the night. At my previous suggestion, we head over to historic Quincy Market to have dinner. At first, I choose to do something else, because the place is absolutely packed and quite hot. But on walking further, she discovers that there are few other good choices in that immediate vicinity so we venture back into the madness. I get a delicious chili cheese burger and fries from what my bank statement says is a place called Aris BBQ, and while I’m sitting at the table awaiting her return from the long line therein, I record this audio snippet that gives some sense of what it sounds like in there. It’s an amazing place.

And that is the substance of day 2. On this day, I am dog-tired after getting aback, and so after trying to read for a bit I clock out shortly after 9:30. More in Saturday’s post, upcoming.