Not inaccessible but ….

As I rode around town this past week , it was hard not to get a bit depressed.

I was off last week, and it was really nice out -- not too hot but really sunny. The sun made the bike trail out of the question, so I spent a lot of time on the streets and sidewalks and grass. 

It's not that my town is particularly inaccessible. I suspect is as good as anywhere. But what passes for accessibility is kind of a joke. I could get anywhere I wanted, provided I was willing:

• To go around poles and trees in the sidewalks.
• To put up with bumps caused by various covers or sidewalk sections that were inexplicably almost an inch below or above the next section.
• To accept sidewalks that dropped off sharply on the side or curb cuts that were pretty close to 90 degree angles when compared to the sidewalk next to them.
• To accept a bumpy ride to get through the parks because the paths are either packed gravel, packed dirt or nonexistent. Not to mention, my city loves cobblestones.

Mom suggested that I tell the city to help them make things more accessible. I have two thoughts on this. As I said before, I do not think my city is particularly inaccessible. So I imagine they honestly don't care.

In the "they don't care" vein, shortly after I got Fame, a TV reporter did a story on me trying to reached the bike trail from my house. I cannot reach the cross walk button and there is a utility pole in the middle of the sidewalk. They told the reporter they would fix the issue. They didn't.

Saved

 One of my uncles almost never wore shorts. He did work outdoors, but even when he got home, he didn't put on shorts. I never understood this because he had an awesome tattoo on his calf. He died five years ago last week. Still hard to believe.

On my walk today, I went on a repaired sidewalk near the bike trail. The sidewalk was repaired, but the the area next to the sidewalk had not been, meaning there were little gaps on the left and right of the sidewalk.

I accidentally went off on the right, then overcorrected and went farther off the left. They are doing a bunch of work near the place where I was, so I was going to call for a worker or two to come help me. But even before I could say anything, one of the workers started running toward me. He wound up helping me back on the sidewalk no problem.

He looked nothing like my uncle — he was a different ethnicity for one thing — but all I could think of when I saw him running over was my uncle. I have decided that it was because of his long pants. I don't know if he had a cool tattoo though.

No more biff, bam, boom

I canceled my comic book subscription the other day. It's not that it was too expensive. It was an online only subscription so was quite cheap. I just didn't find myself reading comics much. This depresses me. Does it mean I am old? Does it mean I am boring?

Or perhaps most likely, since I was struggling to see the words in the books, It means yet another thing Friedreich's ataxia won't let me do easily.