Too bad you don't have his email address. But you could write him a letter care
of The Washington Post where his article appeared. Of course, I'd caution you
to be more gentle with your last point. Remember, he's been fully sighted all
of his life. In his heart of hearts, he is sure that without sight, one can't
really do anything. That's part of the culture he grew up with. Bue please do
send the letter.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
[mailto:blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On Behalf Of Carl Jarvis
Sent: Wednesday, July 12, 2017 10:20 AM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: Blind Man in a Hotel Room
Okay, so I'm not a fully sighted person. But once upon a time, from my 17th
year until almost 30, I lived as a one-eyed "Disabled" man. I learned to drive
with only one eye. I went to college with only one eye. I worked as a free
lance photographer and for 8 years I was the receiving clerk at a drapery
factory, and during that time I even managed to find my way to the church for
my first marriage, using only my right eye. And it was not all that good of an
eye. I'd had cataract surgery at the age of 4, and as a result of having the
lens lanced, I had no ability to quickly recover when going from light to dark.
But I did develop a sense of depth perception, and I did do pretty well as a
photographer, and I managed to father two babies with only one eye...although
our first born died at birth.
So finally, Garrison Keillor made his point regarding our backward march toward
Trumpcare. But what I would tell him, if his story is even close to a real
experience, is that he'd better get that one eye checked, quickly. Fuzzy or
distorted vision equals trouble. Usually with folks of his age, it is Age
Related Macular Degeneration.
Finally, what is this hogwash about being more fearful to losing his eyesight
because he is a writer? I know a great many writers who are blind. And in
today's world that is not going to slow him down nearly as much as what appears
to be his negative attitude. Heck, even deaf blind Helen Keller found ways of
putting her very wise thoughts down in "print".
Carl Jarvis
On 7/11/17, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
So I need an explanation. I used to have pretty good partial vision
for a legally blind person, but any fully sighted folks on this list
who would please explain to me why Garrison couldn't see the TV, the
room numbers on the doors, or the computer keys because he had a patch
on one eye, I'd appreciate it. One eye was covered so his depth
perception was damaged. But that isn't what he's describing. People drive
with one eye. I mean, Really!
Miriam
Garrison Keillor. (photo: WPR)
Blind Man in a Hotel Room
By Garrison Keillor, The Washington Post
10 July 17
Went in for eye surgery the other day, which reminded me of an old
wheeze of a joke, which I told to people as they prepared the prisoner
for execution:
A man walked by the insane asylum and heard the inmates shouting,
"Twenty-one! Twenty-one!" They sounded ecstatic, and he stopped to
have a look. He put his eye to a hole in the fence, and they poked him
in the eye with a sharp stick and yelled, "Twenty-two! Twenty-two!"
The sedation guy was busy and didn't laugh, but the nurse did. She was
an angel, and how often do you get to meet one? She grew up on a farm
in southwestern Minnesota, is the mother of two teenagers and a
professional possessed of warmth and humor. She did the prep, slipped
the IV in, ran through a battery of questions and patted me on the
shoulder about 27 times in the course of an hour. A life-long
reader/writer like me blanches at the thought of his eye being sliced
while he observes up close. This woman's ease and kindness changed
everything. Every thing.
Of course the outcome depends on the ophthalmic surgeon, who is also a
kind and caring woman, but by then I was sedated, mesmerized by bright lights.
The procedure lasted an hour, and when I was back on my feet, a patch
over the eye, woozy but ambulatory, I walked out into bright sunlight
and into the world of the handicapped. It was not easy to figure out
when to cross the street to my hotel. In the hotel hallway, I had to
read room numbers up close, hoping nobody would suddenly open a door
and find a tall man with an eye patch peering at their peephole and call the
police.
Back in the room, I hung up my jacket, opened my laptop and couldn't
see the keys that would increase font size to where I could read the
text. I lay on the bed and contemplated the prospect of life as a man
in a blur. I dozed.
I
turned on the TV. I couldn't watch it, only listen. I clicked around,
hoping for a friendly voice, and everyone sounded hyped-up and weird,
canned laughter, big carnival barker voices, big woofers and screaming
meemies, and then I found a ballgame. Two men, talking nice and slow
in level tones, describing actions taking place before their eyes.
Players I didn't know playing games I didn't care about, but those
were the voices of my uncles discussing cars, gardens, future
construction projects, the secret of pouring concrete, and that was
reassuring, to know that the country has not come unhinged.
Kindness and blindness, all in one day. Back to basics. I think
kindness does not come naturally to men. We bark, we harrumph, but
tenderness is a stretch for us. The grief-stricken mother lies in bed,
keening, and her women friends take turns stroking her back, while the
men sit stiffly in the next room, trying to make conversation.
It's a small thing, kindness, but when you're in the hands of a large
institution with a bar code for identification, kindness feels like
the key to civilization itself and the fulfillment of the word of the
Lord. And the combination of kindness and the high-powered
intellectual acuity of modern medical science is a miracle of our
time. America is the land of second chances, and that's what modern medicine
has brought us.
I lay in the hotel room hearing my uncles discuss the price of feed
corn, and it occurred to me, not once but several times, that I am a
fortunate man and thank you, Lord. For Medicare A and B and a good
group health policy and savings to cover any shortfall. The 22 million
people who may lose their health insurance in the next few years if
Congress does as the man wishes will face some high barriers between
them and any sort of eye surgery. This does not come under the heading
of Kindness.
Eighty percent of white evangelical Christians who cast ballots last
fall voted for the man, who seems as far from Christian virtues
(humility, kindness, patience, etc.) as Hulk Hogan is from the Dalai
Lama. These are people who pray for guidance. So apparently Jesus got
the story wrong. The rich man came to Lazarus who was covered with
sores and asked for a tax break and the rich man was rewarded and
Lazarus went to hell. Do unto others as you are glad they don't have
the means to do unto you.
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