autumn

Birthday Evolution

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When I was young, I hated the attention I received on my birthday. I hated when people would sing me the “birthday song.” I would whimper. I would cry. And, if my weak SMA muscles would have allowed it, I would have slithered into a ball under a table at the first note of the famous tune.

Many people that know me now would be surprised by this. But, it’s very true. If, on my birthday, I could have burrowed into a hole in the ground like El Chapo evading the Federales, I would have done it.

Por supuesto.

Being a small kid with a visible disability, you always get looked at differently. Always. Even as a tiny child, you sense the eyes that follow your every move. The assessing. The wondering.

The what is wrong with that little girl? gaze that becomes so familiar. While it’s not a scary experience, it is an annoying one.

If you’re wondering what that look is actually like, here’s how I would describe it. You know those ASPCA commercials with that mournful Sarah MacLachlan song? The ones with her singing “Angel” as they show a montage of sick and undersized puppies that will die if you don’t donate $15 a month? You know that sad (nearly tearful) look that your face gets when you see that commercial?

That’s the face I’m talking about.

So, yeah… pull it together, dude.

Anyway… when you’re already ‘different’… and used to being recognized by many as ‘different,’ you don’t want any more attention than absolutely necessary. So, your birthday is yet another extra spotlight that shines upon you each October.

I felt this way for many years. I didn’t want the additional fuss, or the attention, that came with that day. I had enough of it already.

But, as I approached my 30th birthday, a birthday that many doctors had predicted that I may never reach, I began to feel very differently about it. It evolved in my mind. It felt like a milestone. An achievement. A mark of a battle that I was winning.

And, suddenly, celebrating my birthday became something that I wanted to do. It was something that I didn’t want to tuck into a drawer and pretend didn’t exist. I wouldn’t be like Rudolph Giuliani ignoring a Congressional subpoena.

I would face it. And enjoy it.

So, now, here I am, years later, on my birthday, proud to be alive and proud to be a part of this world. It’s been a lot of hard work getting here (and I’ve had a lot of help along the way)— but, I did it.

Happy Birthday to me.

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(Yes, that’s a pumpkin spice latte. Duh.)

A Pumpkin Eclipse

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As the eclipse made its way over Patterson this morning, and the light in the sky dimmed like dusk, my first thought didn’t pertain to the rare astronomical wonder that was occurring. The event that captivated the country and seized the media’s attention in a way that we haven’t seen since OJ Simpson careened around Los Angeles in that damn white Ford Bronco.

No, as I peered from my kitchen window and watched the faded light dance on the trees outside, I felt something else that wasn’t celestial awe. Frankly, it was the hue of the sky that reminded me of something. Something that was very near and dear to my heart.

Why, the eclipse looked like… FALL!

My heart beats in an autumnal rhythm— it yearns for the shortening days of the fall, cool mornings and all things pumpkin-flavored. By this time of year, I actually have to tamper my excitement, lest it overflow and run amok— like a toddler in an inflatable jumpy house.

It is currently taking every effort of my soul not to prematurely put up my fall harvest decor— which includes scarecrows, ceramic pumpkins and candles so deliciously-scented that I would eat them if I knew the wax and chemicals wouldn’t make me vomit.

This kind of restraint is so difficult. I really, really want to pull out my box of autumn stuff. So badly. The same way a teenage boy longs for their PlayStation or a link to a free porn website.

To be honest, I can hear my fall decor calling to me in the hall closet each time I zoom by it in my wheelchair. It says things like:

“Elizabette… we’re here, come free us!“

“Who cares what people think?“

“Don’t deny us. You know you want this.“

Argh. The perky pumpkin voices are so alluring. You know that feeling when you’re a kid and you have a mosquito bite that you’re not supposed to scratch? And the more you don’t scratch it, the more you want to scratch it? Yeah, that. I bet Donald Trump gets the same feeling before he tweets something really stupid.

This would all be easier if the universe didn’t know that I adore fall. You may think this sounds insane— like the muddled ramblings of a girl that drinks too many pumpkin spice lattes. But, this doesn’t make it any less true.

pumpkinHere is Exhibit A.

A few days ago, we harvested these bell peppers from my garden. You will notice that they are shaped like mini pumpkins.

I didn’t tell them to do this. They grew like this voluntarily. Even the produce in my yard wants to be pumpkin-shaped!! It’s like an omen from the universe. A wonderful omen that fills my heart with joy.

But, I must wait just a little bit longer.

Oh, Fall, how I love thee. Soon, you shall be mine!

Halloween 101 (throwback)

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In case your calendar is out of order, I’d like to inform you that Halloween is this weekend. This means that it is socially acceptable for the children in your neighborhood to come to your front door and beg for products containing processed sugar and high fructose corn syrup.
If you want to be well-liked, you’ll purchase the really good candy (which contains chocolate). Further, you should make sure each piece can fill the palm of a 10-year-old boy wearing an Iron Man costume—anything smaller may be met with disgruntlement and covert eye-rolling. Also, please don’t be a house that only gives out Sweet Tarts. If we wanted candy that reminded us of antacids, we can just go down to Walgreens and buy some Tums.

Many folks think that Halloween is a modern holiday, but, actually, that is not the case. Use of the word “Halloween” dates to 1743, but it derives from the term “All Hallows’ Eve”—which was an old religious festival (with pagan roots) that honors the dead. As early as the 16th century, celebrations of All Hallows’ Eve were widespread in Scotland, Ireland and Wales—and the traditions bear a marked similarity to those we know today.

Children would wear disguises and sing rhymes and songs in exchange for fruit, nuts, and sweets. This early form of trick-or-treating was called “guising.” Like today, that harvest feast would be the highlight of their childhoods.

I’d like to see what would happen if we passed out a bunch of fruit and nuts to trick-or-treaters nowadays. Half of the kids would sneer at the fruit and the rest would go into anaphylactic shock from their severe nut allergies.

Halloween is about more than just trick-or-treating, thankfully. It’s also a time for scary books and movies that will make it hard for you to sleep at night. Long before Hollywood made movies about chainsaw murderers and children that see dead people, writers throughout history have been crafting stories designed to make you wonder if you remembered to lock your front door.

I must admit that I’m a wuss when it comes to scary books; I generally avoid them whenever possible. One of the innovators of American horror fiction was Edgar Allen Poe. In 1843, he published his famous work “The Tell-Tale Heart.” I was forced to read this short-story in school and it seriously freaked me out. Since that day, I can’t listen to the sound of a human heartbeat without thinking about it. If you haven’t read it, please do. Even if you aren’t a “reader” (you poor human, you), it’s only around eight-pages long, so you should be able to muscle through it. After all, the menu at the Cheesecake Factory is much longer than that.

Lastly, I hope you and your loved ones have a safe Halloween—may it be filled with fun, good memories and lots of high fructose corn syrup.

(Originally appeared in print in The Patterson Irrigator on October 30, 2015)

Fall To-Do List

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pumpkineverythingSome folks like the spring, while other yearn for the summer. For me, Autumn is the best season of all. I can feel its arrival in the air— the crisp mornings, later sunrises, and the stench of rotting leaves. I like to attack the season with vigor and purpose, which, for a Type-A person like me, means that I must make a list of all the things I’d like to accomplish. It’s no secret that I love lists. So, I just pulled out my favorite notepad and scribbled out the first three things that came to mind.

The first item on my to-do list is a perennial fall favorite— the Fantozzi Farms Corn Maze. Here in Patterson, we’re lucky to have this fun, family-friendly destination right at our door step. Each year, they select a unique theme for their corn maze design. This time, they’ve etched the US Capitol Building, along with the heads of presidential candidates Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump into their massive corn field. While it’s difficult to tell which candidate has the most inflated head, Trump’s hair, alone, should at least cover a couple of acres.

As always, there are lots of other fun and spooky activities for kids of all ages at the Fantozzi Corn Maze. You should check it out this October. After all, who knows when we’ll get another opportunity to run around in these candidates’ heads? I can imagine what kind of scary stuff we may find lurking around in there. Perhaps the thousands of Hillary’s lost emails and the remnants of Trump’s sanity? Who knows!

This leads me to the second item on my autumn to-do list— voting in the 2016 Election. Voting is our civic duty and responsibility. When I turned 18, I was so excited to vote in my first election— which turned out to be the historic 2000 Presidential Election. With all the Florida recounts, ‘hanging chads,’ and Supreme Court hearings, that election had more drama than an episode of the Real Housewives.

While voting at the polling stations on Election Day is more atmospheric, I’m personally a fan of mail-in voting. I like sitting in the privacy of my own home and wearing my favorite pajama pants while I vote. Being an informed citizen is key, so while filling out my ballot, I like to have access to Google and Facebook. These resources are our main sources of super-factual information. After all, everyone knows that everything you read on the Internet must be true. I’m pretty sure that Benjamin Franklin once said that. And, he should know since I once saw online that he also invented Wi-Fi.

Anyway, I suspect my voting experience this time around to be a much more somber affair. After I fill out my ballot, I plan to sit in a corner and cry.

To make myself feel better, I plan to start my Christmas shopping early— which is the 3rd and final item on my impromptu to-do list. I collect online coupons the way some people collect baseball cards, ceramic frogs, and if you’re Donald Trump, staggering business losses.

It’s a compulsion, and nothing makes me happier than getting 25% off my purchase with a coupon code that I found online. It’s the best feeling. So, I find that holiday shopping is best tackled when I’ve collected a varied assortment of coupons. As the old saying goes, ‘the early bird gets the coupon for free shipping!‘

Whatever your own personal fall to-do list entails, I hope you have fun with it. Just don’t get lost in that corn maze— there are just some things from which we can never recover…

That October I devoured the entire Harry Potter series

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October is my favorite month. I like the windy days, the pumpkin treats and the slightly nauseated feeling you get when you eat all the Halloween candy you bought days before the trick-or-treaters even arrive at your doorstep.

As I flipped my calendar, my mind flashed back to many of the Octobers of my past. While most of the memories were pleasant, there were a couple that I’d like to forget. Like when I was a sophomore at Patterson High and suddenly vomited all over my typewriter in Mr. Pate’s first-period keyboarding class. Luckily, the sound was covered by the clattering of 35 typewriters that never managed to type in unison – despite Mr. Pate’s best efforts. Not only was it totally embarrassing, but I ended up being too sick to attend football homecoming that week – major bummer.

Thankfully, most of my Octobers have been much better than that one. Especially the one back in 2007, when I spent the entire month reading the Harry Potter series from beginning to end.

The seven-book series by J.K. Rowling was published over the course of ten years – beginning in 1997. As each book was released, readers of all ages impatiently pre-ordered their copies online or waited in line at bookstores. It was a publishing juggernaut. The book world hadn’t seen these kinds of bestselling numbers since King James decided to jazz up the Bible in 1611.

I’m a certified bookworm. In elementary school, I was the kid that always won the Reading Award. I don’t mean just sometimes. … I mean all the time. No one could approach my fearsome reading skills. I was a book ninja, a literary Bruce Lee – only not so flexible.

But faced with a phenomenon like Harry Potter, I knew I couldn’t patiently wait for each book. It was an excruciating prospect. Thus, I made a decision. I would wait to begin reading the books until all seven had been published – even if I had to wait years to do it.

In October of 2007, I took the plunge. And it was glorious. For that month, when I wasn’t sleeping or showering, I was reading Harry Potter. I lived it, breathed it – and when I grew sleepy at night, I cursed my eyelids for refusing to stay open. Did Harry fall asleep during his quest to bring down Voldemort? No, he didn’t. But unlike Harry and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, I’m a damn Muggle. And Muggles need sleep. Blast it, anyway.

When I finished reading the last book, I cried. I’m not sure whether it was out of joy, sadness, or grief for the fact that I would never again be able to read Harry Potter for the first time. But I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.

If only all Octobers could be so great.