Mostly, I feel tired. This is partly attributable to having gotten over a cold. And, maybe not quite over. But a lot of it has to do with the ongoing emotional overhead of getting robbed at my doorstep…in a wheelchair…with all the unpleasant resonance of my previous injury. And although this is real enough, I must remember that it is a first world problem. Yes, I have had trouble getting my replacement iPhone (the stolen one was fortunately insured) fully operational again. Meaning that I can’t sort out the control software to our home’s built-in loudspeakers. The takeaway involves a heightened level of wariness. Not to mention weariness. The price of life.
And it can’t hurt to think about the bigger picture, can it? In that perspective, one despairs for the general state of the nation. Clearly, it is unwise to assume that being in a wheelchair offers some sort of shield against criminality. Unwise, but not unhopeful. Yes, this is a very personal and selfish wish. But not an unreasonable one. And, in fact, in much of my life this hope is not unfounded. People are generally kind, helpful and solicitous. But not always, clearly. And at this particular moment the country seems to be in an unusually ugly phase. Let’s hope it’s a phase, not a terminal condition. Imagine a president who openly advocates a sort of every-man-for-himself competition for survival. ‘Community’ is for wimps. Or more precisely, losers. It has been replaced by a prey-versus-predator ethos. But we can all see this.
It had been a month since I got behind the wheel of my car. But after adjusting my wheelchair as instructed, there was no more avoiding. In particular there is no avoiding this particular day, Sunday morning. This is when San Francisco traffic it Is at its lowest ebb. And safest. So there was nothing to do but start up and drive away. Although within seconds it seemed that my car’s pedals were out of adjustment, simply too hard to reach. Go back? Once you start driving in San Francisco, there really isn’t any going back. Because turning around involves so much effort…that you might as well continue. Particularly to nearby Noe Valley. I made it two blocks up the hill and down the other side before I realized that I really couldn’t see anything out of my rear view mirror. Too bad. This would have to wait until I got to where I was going. 24th St. And I knew I was in good shape when I started getting annoyed at the construction debris blocking the disabled space I always use.
What we can’t see is the future. Which I dread. It can hardly be avoided. So, on we go. And immediately, I go to BART, that most equalizing and class-leveling experience, being one of the public in public transportation. Yes, onward.