What a silly trade

My favorite visual artist I am related to reminded me that Bruce Springsteen, as cool as he is, doesn't really know about life in a wheelchair.

If he did, I am pretty sure he would never say anything about trading "in these wings on some wheels."

I know he was not talking about a wheelchair's wheels, but I can't help thinking of that whenever I hear the beautiful "Thunder Road." And I think how I would trade in my wheels on some wings … in a heartbeat, even though I'd have to get new shirts that accommodated my wings.

How I'd love to fly like that and be unencumbered by this stupid chair and disease. I know that Claren would hate it, though.

My favorite visual artist I am related to reminded me of the "wings to wheels" thing
with a painting she made recently. She drew a guy in a wheelchair and he had wings … but he was still in the chair. (She also drew the guy on the left for my blog.) The wings reminded me of the wings on the angels in "Dogma," which I really like, but I really hope the painting guy doesn't have wings and still have to use the chair.

I would love to have wings, but only if I was cured by getting the wings – the last f----ng thing I need is another body part that doesn't pay attention to what I need.

I say reminded me of this thought because it has been sitting on a sticky note on my MacBook for ages, waiting till I could figure out how to write about it.

I guess I should thank her for letting me take down that one sticky. And Bruce Springsteen remains my favorite artist I am not related to.