If it seems spoiled, churlish and downright petty, well there you have it. Returned from a spectacular trip...something in me is asking the question "why?" Calling into question...what? The worthiness of travel? Why I travel in particular? Or more basically, what other journey am I neglecting? There is an idea behind changing the human scene. This essential purpose has not altered in eons. What has changed is our capacity to casually shift continent, waltzing in and out of global airports. They Read more [...]

What sort of San Francisco day will it be? As I make my way trainward, the question rings with promise and something else. In suburban Menlo Park there's the weather. It is far too warm for a wool pullover, but it is also far too early to pass judgment. I have checked the San Francisco weather. This attire could prove entirely appropriate. We will see. What else will we see? We see the 10:14 roll into the station right on time, Dexter at the helm. He is the epitome of the American train conductor. Read more [...]

"Do you go in the street?" This from a woman of approximately my advanced years, attired in a bicycle helmet and, like me, leaning over the halibut in the Menlo Park Farmer's Market. I take in this question, tilting it slightly this way and that, in case something rattles. No, nothing loose, such as irony or nuance. "Yes," I tell her. "I have been known to go into the street." Her question faintly jars me with its simplicity and illogic. To not go in the street would mean forever remaining Read more [...]

Yes, I am tired, but in this already altered state, alert to the fine layer of sand, a thick coating practically in drifts, atop my wheelchair batteries. Rare view of this, my portable world. But the shower bench inside this disabled-equipped room at Bryce Canyon Lodge accomplishes just that. Gets me not only out of the wheelchair and out of my routine, but into an environment that is all about that. Environment. And one thing about the environment, well, it's windy, sandy, and various other things. Read more [...]

If you ever doubt that the disabled world is an exceedingly small one, consider my current frontier - walking. Anywhere. And, let us be frank, virtually any distance. Next time I raise my eyebrows at someone hooked on methamphetamine, do remind me about wheelchairs. Yes, they are addictive. They are a crutch, if you happen to be in a 12 step program. Otherwise, if you are disabled and 12 steps seem like an awful lot, they are not a crutch. In fact, a crutch represents an enormous step up. Not Read more [...]

Never change shoes, that is the lesson of the moment. And it is a frightening moment...unless I get a grip, not just on the steering wheel, but on this frisson of anxiety. Never quite sure why they call it El Camino Real, for it is extremely unroyal, this six-lane commercial strip that runs through our suburbs. Nice to have Jane actively concurring in this belief, posting several comments on my latest column for the Menlo Park Almanac...and encouraging me to not be so timid about stirring up controversy. Read more [...]