Goodbye house

It’s done. The condo is sold. Closing is done and keys are delivered. The new owners are probably there right now moving in. I don’t live there anymore. I have no connection to that place that still feels like home. Actually, I have no connection to ANYPLACE.

I just read in my “how to write a blog” book that one should never write in all caps. I don’t think they said anything about underlining, though.

It really makes me rather sick to my stomach to think about my house being gone. That may actually be because I just had lunch, though. They served this nasty crab salad made of fake crabmeat.

The fact of the matter is, I ought to be ELATED (there I go again!). I need the money big time, and I’m making $100,000.00, which will pay the outrageous rent here for a good long while. I spoke to my tax man and he said there are no taxes on the profit (because there isn’t a large enough profit), and that my rent here is tax deductible, so I guess I can now financially afford to go on a bit longer.

Goodbye van

Well, The Salvationn Army came and towed my van away from Park Towers (the place I used to live) today. It was a good van - a 1999 Mercury Villager with only 62,078 miles on it. The tow truck driver was quite impressed. It should be a nice tax write-off. Probably I should have sold it, particularly considering my current dire financial straits, but considering that I don't really know to sell a car and that I'm all alone dealing with the situation, I guess this was probably the best option. It is certainly a better option than letting the van disintigrate into a pile of metallic dust surrounded by four tires, which is what my current mental state of terrified horror and incredulous denial is inclined to let happen. Some how on the way to meet the tow truck driver in the condo lot, however, I lost the condo keys. Tina Burrina is coming here Thursday at 5:30 with all the paperwork for me to sign, so Sister Sue says just to buy a key to the front door by then, and she'll gather up copies of our other keys from our friends.

sweet story

One of the residents came out on the porch today as I was reading the newspaper. She is a sweet old lady who lives in a world of her own. She wanders around talking to herself all the time. She's very curious and comments on absolutely everything, but her thoughts and her comments don't have any logical continuity to them. She is always smiling and is quite soft spoken and just sees to be vocalizing whatever thought is passing through her head at the time.

This morning she wandered out on the porch as I was reading the paper. At first she just mumbled to herself as usual ("There goes a girl running by." "Oh, listen to that!" "They're in a hurry!")

Then, all of a sudden, she reaches over, grabs the paper out of my hand, and stares at it, transfixed. I look to see what's happening and see there's an ad with a full page picture of a man's face. He's in his 30's, and vaguely resembles George Clooney.

"Good looking!" she says.

I examine the ad. "He's a doctor," I say.

"Hmmm..," she says, thinking. "I go to doctors..."

Whoever created that ad ought to get a raise!

David

David, the organist, was my closest friend in all the world and my dearly loved soulmate. He was gay, so there was never anything physical between us, but our souls were united. He did an incredible job in this church. There was a long period of time when there was no permanent pastor, and David really carried the church and kept it going. Not only was the music program wonderful, but he did all the banners, and special seasonal services, and social events, etc., etc., etc. I can’t even BEGIN to cover it all. He even got a janitor from his school to do the cleaning just before Easter so it would be spotless. I just wish he could play this nice organ.

David's memorial

This is what the church put out to announce the dedication of the new organ they got in memory of David.

Organ Dedication
January 31, 2010

Please Join Us
for
The David R. Willis
Memorial Organ
Dedication
Sunday, January 31st
2:30 p.m.




A dedication recital to celebrate the acquisition of Christ the Servant's beautiful new Rodgers Allegiant 658 Two Manual Organ will be held in the sanctuary on Sunday, January 31, at 2:30 p.m. A reception will follow in the Narthex. The recent purchase of this organ was made possible by the many generous contributions to the David R. Willis Memorial Organ Fund which was established shortly after David's death in 2008.

David R. Willis


Christ the Servant Lutheran Church was enormously blessed to have David Willis as Minister of Music for sixteen years. All who knew David were enriched by his talent and creativity and touched by his kindness, generosity, and compassion. His untimely passing left a deep sadness in our congregation. The celebration of our new organ is in David's honor and memory.

Song

Sing to the tune of “I've Been Working on the Railroad”


I’ve been working on elections
Twenty-four long years.
Complicated new procedures
Don’t cause excess fears.

Then I hear the Board start going,
“Debbie is embarrassing to me.
We just hate her awful wheelchair,
So we all agree!.

Debbie’s got to go. Debbie’s got to go. Debbie’s got to roll away-ay-ay.
Debbie’s got to go. Debbie’s got to go. Debbie’s got to roll away.

Let’s say she retired!
That could work, you know-ow-ow-ow.
Let’s say that Debbie has retired!
‘Cause she is embarrassing, you know.

Singin' fi, fie, fiddly-i-o
Fi, fie, fiddly-i-o-o-o-o
Fi, fie, fiddly-i-o
Debbie’s got to go.

Goodbye job

The Electoral Board of the City of Falls Church fired me (or, actually, forced me into early retirement) immediately after I’d successfully managed the largest and most complicated election in the City’s history. I had served the City as General Registrar for 24 years during which I conducted 54 successful elections. I never experienced any allegations of electoral misconduct, and, despite 2 recounts, have never had a vote total change. Throughout my years of service, the City led the state in voter turnout, which means, not only that the citizens turned out in force, but also that the voter registration books were uncommonly clean and free of dead wood. After all, if lots of the registered voters on the books don’t live in Falls Church anymore or are dead, then they don’t show up to vote, and the turnout % goes down. Clean registration books don’t create a high turnout, but having the highest turnout in the state on a consistent basis certainly does prove clean registration books.

Throughout my years of service, I’ve consistently done a wonderful job. Among the laundry list of reasons the Electoral Board gave for retiring me, the main reason given was that they didn’t like my wheelchair. I have that reason in writing with all three signatures on it. ADA has been law for years now, so I guess this incident proves that appointment is a private rather than an employment issue and that, when making appointments, one doesn’t have to obey laws targeted at ending discrimination. I just expected better from than discrimination on the basis of disability from the City of Falls Church, but I guess I was wrong.

An Accomplishment!!!

I’m going to my friend’s house this afternoon so I’m really psyched. Anytime I can leave here is wonderful. I carefully arranged with the care manager for her to come at 11AM to get me ready, and I have Metro Access coming at 1:30, so we’ll see what really happens. It’s really frustrating to have so little control over the basics of one’s life.
I just into the bathroom and got on the toilet and peed and actually that was a major accomplishment. The thing is that nobody here offers encouragement or tries to help me learn to do things by myself. It’s much easier for them if I just follow the usual program and let them keep putting diapers on me and only get up and change location twice a day. They use a big machine to pick me up and move me. It all makes me wonder “Well what is the point of getting up in the morning at all, then?” BUT, to put it all in perspective, I DID accomplish something today because I got the bathroom and got on the toilet and peed.

Counter

Wow - I added a counter to this blog all by myself and it actually seems to work! This IS A GREAT accomplishment, because I am very untechnical!

I am also surprised to see that "Ad Sense" has added a bunch of religious junk due to my Sunday School entries. This just doesn 't seem like the kind of blog that would draw many mainstream religious types, but I guess Ad Sense knows best!

I get two showers a week here, and tonight is shower night, so I AM PSYCHED! (It doesn't take much to make me happy these days!)

Sunday school 2

There is indeed, a relevant reason behind all this crap I’ve been sharing about my Sunday school experiences. I currently go to this Lutheran church (Christ the Servant) out in Reston, Virginia, which is a 15-minute drive from where I live (Falls Church). I go there because it is where David worked right before he died, and I went there with him, and now I feel like I share memories of him with the people there.

I finally joined the church a couple of weeks ago and they immediately put out a flier titled “Adult Educational Opportunities”. There are two classes being offered. Both sound worthwhile, and both are being taught by retired ordained pastors who go to the church. One of the classes takes place at the traditional Sunday School time of 9 AM Sunday morning. Well, that cuts slightly into my Mocha Latte time at the Starbucks up the hill from the church, but that is no major sacrifice. Scott Gustafson teaches it and it is about a book he wrote himself, so it will probably be worthwhile.

The other requires a substantial Metro Access trip after dark, as it takes place on Monday evenings aft 7:30 PM. (Metro Access is the DC area para-transit system for people with disabilities.) I went to that one, too, although I’m no real sure what it is supposed to be about. (It has something to do with evolution.) Pastor Wetzel said to me after class. “Wow. I’m surprised to see you! You sure had to do a lot to get here!” to which I should have said, “The class sounded fascinating! I didn’t want to miss it!” But no, not me. What I actually said was “I’d do anything to get out of the place I live!”

Sunday School

WOW – I’m doing some thing totally unusual for me…. I’m going to Sunday school! Twice a week!!! I’m not a particularly religious person (unless my mother is reading this blog, in which case I am a devout believer who has always attended Sunday School regularly.) In truth, I haven’t attended since I graduated high school. Unless, that is, you count the year I taught JR, High Sunday school when I was Second Year in college. (At UVa, we called ourselves Second Year instead of sophomore just to prove we were better than everyone else!) My motive for teaching that year probably had a lot to do with my co-teacher – a HANDSOME pre-med student named Cliff. It all ended in an inglorious crash landing, however, when my little sister Sue. a student in the class, came in before I did one week and told everyone, including Cliff, “I don’t know if Debbie will be here or not. The police called our house last night and said she was out drinking with Bobby when they had to arrest him.”
Gotta go – more tomorrow about Sunday school now.

Time to Rhyme

I live in a tiny room,
A room that’s really not
Sufficient to accommodate
The tons of stuff I’ve got.

I straighten, sort, and throw away,
But still my things don’t fit,
And, no matter what I need,
I can not locate it.

Were I to be a Buddist monk
I would fit here just great,
For Buddist monks live austere lives.
Not much accumulates.

But no, not me, I’m not austere.
I’m sure, without a doubt,
That I’ve not got one single thing
That I could live without.

And so I try to organize.
And now I’ve done so, see,
I decided each thing’s proper place
Is just where it might be.

Cleaning by semantics is
A very pleasant chore
(Although it doesn’t help me find
The stuff I’m looking for!)

biology

Haven’t posted in a few days because I was so damned depresssed that all I could do is sit in this damned little room in the dark and listen to music and play Yahoo’s Literai for hours and lose miserably and get even more depressed. SO last night I got to thinking about the myriad of reasons I have to be depressed – which are, to name a few:
1) My best friend, an absolutely wonderful, talented, thoughtful, loving gay musician who was my soul mate and the center of my life died last year of cancer. God, I love him. His name is David Willis.
2) The pompous, hateful, spiteful Electoral Board of the City of Falls Church, Virginia fired me because they didn’t like my wheelchair. I have this in writing with all three of their signatures on it. This after 24 years outstanding service, including pulling off the biggest and busiest election in Falls Church history the previous November. I’ll write more on this in a later post, including the numbers and stats that prove what I’m saying.
3) One day I had a regular life, disabled but regular, living in an apartment and doing my own thing, and WHAM – I fall down, injure my leg slightly, and – without really understanding how it happened – I’m living in an old folks home, and probably will be for life. I’m only 52 – that’s too young to be put out to pasture.
4) I don’t have enough money to be here forever, which means I have to find someplace even less desirable to live. This place is $6000/month. I get $2,000 pension and about 2,000 disability. I am closing on my condo at the end of the month, and I’ll clear about $100,000, but that won’t last forever.


ANYWAY,I thought I was depressed for all those very good reasons, but it turns out that I was actually depressed because I was on the verge of going on the rag big time. Aint biology fun?

Dad's birthday

Today was my dad's 81st birthday. I went home for lunch and we had cake. I made him a card, but Sue and I will get together with them this weekend and do pesents. Mom is managing to keep she and Dad managing ok for now, but I really wish they were in a more protected situation. I guess Mom just isn't ready to accept that kind of change. (Neither was I!!) The realator who is selling my condo (who I've privately called "Tina Burrina" for years for absolutely no reason, because her name is Tina Wilkinson. Perhaps the reason is because I drank quite a bit back when I bought my first condo from her. Tina, of course, knows nothing of this)... ANYWAY, the realator said she told Mom and Dad that she told Mom and Dad that she could sell their place easily if they they wanted, and Mom responded, "But what would happen to my dining room table?!"

bad day at the home

It has been a real frustrating day, mainly because of the way it started, I woke up at 7 AM because the shift changes then and the incoming employees all talk loudly and greet each other right outside my door. OK, fine, its time to get up anyway, but then they just leave me in bed until they happen to get around to helping me get up. Today it was 8:20. The thing is, I feel like a trapped prisoner until they get there. Today I called on the phone three times, and they were always surprised that I hadn’t been helped yet, but nobody ever did anything about it. In real life, when I was on my own, I often slept later than this. I think it is being helpless that bothers me.

getting by

Last night was New Years eve, so I arranged to meet my sister, her friend Shirley, Ron (the lover of my best friend David, who died recently, I'll tell you about him later), and Ron's friend Darryl (?Darren?) at a nearby Thai resturant or dinner. Iy was good to be out, but it fshouldn't have seemed unusual to me - I'm a 52 year old person who went out to dinner just after sunset at a nearby restaurant - no big deal - but I've been so coddled here that it was absolutely frightening. And that's really sad. The funny and embarassing part oa this story is that when I first went in the restaurant