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Feb. 25th, 2018 09:24 pmThis is going to be very random - I've been feeling guilty about not blogging, even though I have zippity to say that is of import. Nonetheless, here is some blather.
We got up early this morning, a Sunday, to go see Black Panther at 9:50. The theater was packed. So packed, that there was only one chair available in the handicap aisle, which my husband and his crutches took, and which he later surrendered to a lady accompanying a woman in a wheelchair because none of the other mobile teens and 20-somethings could be bothered to vacate the other seats in the handicapped row. He ended up sitting three rows from the front. His crutches got their own chair, which no one contested as the theater continued to fill. I hope those lazy kids felt abashed after watching the movie with its "do what is right" theme.
The movie was great. There was one scene during a mass fighting scene that moved me to tears for a reason few folks I know would find important. (For those who have seen the movie, it was the conversation between two who loved each other, who were not the main actors, and the decision made by one of them as a result. You know which scene I mean.) We are planning on returning to the theater next weekend to see it again, hopefully from further up in the chairs. Watching it in our combined-ethnic crowd was cool - I think, and please don't tell me that I was wrong, that there was a sense of bonding and respect between us all as a result of the film viewing. That "Good for him/her!" spoken aloud and agreed with during the show crossed the color lines and made strangers smile at strangers, and nod their heads to each other in agreement. It was affirming to me to hear white folks say, "I'd be the token white guy in a minute." as they were walking out. Living at the edge of the South, there is a palpable awareness of tension even in my very-mixed neighborhood. Day-by-day, things are fine with our neighbors but when something racially ugly comes down, we all retreat to our homes and stay silent rather than gathering together in support of each other. It makes me sad.
Bossman is on crutches and in a boot until the middle of March. He lost his footing during an ice storm last month and bruised the foot black, then walked on it and refused to go to the doctor to have it examined. A co-worker dropped a heavy SOP book on it at work, and then he stepped on a gumball (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liquidambar_styraciflua) in a parking lot and something went "pop!" and finally he agreed to have it looked at. Five weeks after he'd first injured it. X-rays reveal that he torqued a bone a bit but also cracked it. It is an outside bone (the long ones) of his instep. Stepping on the gumball caused the cracked bone to separate nearly all the way down the shaft, so he cannot walk on it at all. If it is healing by the middle of March, then he may be able to get something smaller than the clunky boot to wear until it is completely knitted. If not, he will have to be scheduled for surgery - and as I just pointed out to him this morning, that means we will not be attending Pennsic this year. There is no way I could load/unload/set-up all by myself, much less reverse the process to leave afterwards. I could hire helpers for packing out. But we were to go as staff members and would not be able to have a crew there during staff week to help us unload and set up. Folks onsite are already working their butts off, usually against the clock. He had not even thought of that until today. I think it might have helped bring home that when he injures himself, he needs to see a doctor. I remember quite clearly the time when I ended up nagging him for months over his "pulled chest muscles" from Pennsic-tide (early August) until just before Christmas, when our GP finally realized that something was wrong. He had gone in in late August as a result of my nagging, but was told it was just strained muscles. I waited a month, honest, before I started on him about going back in - 'sprained muscles' shouldn't hurt worse, or begin swelling when you are babying them. It was cancer, and he is danged lucky that it hadn't invaded more than a few ribs. It's gone now and yet that didn't teach him to take care of his body.
We got up early this morning, a Sunday, to go see Black Panther at 9:50. The theater was packed. So packed, that there was only one chair available in the handicap aisle, which my husband and his crutches took, and which he later surrendered to a lady accompanying a woman in a wheelchair because none of the other mobile teens and 20-somethings could be bothered to vacate the other seats in the handicapped row. He ended up sitting three rows from the front. His crutches got their own chair, which no one contested as the theater continued to fill. I hope those lazy kids felt abashed after watching the movie with its "do what is right" theme.
The movie was great. There was one scene during a mass fighting scene that moved me to tears for a reason few folks I know would find important. (For those who have seen the movie, it was the conversation between two who loved each other, who were not the main actors, and the decision made by one of them as a result. You know which scene I mean.) We are planning on returning to the theater next weekend to see it again, hopefully from further up in the chairs. Watching it in our combined-ethnic crowd was cool - I think, and please don't tell me that I was wrong, that there was a sense of bonding and respect between us all as a result of the film viewing. That "Good for him/her!" spoken aloud and agreed with during the show crossed the color lines and made strangers smile at strangers, and nod their heads to each other in agreement. It was affirming to me to hear white folks say, "I'd be the token white guy in a minute." as they were walking out. Living at the edge of the South, there is a palpable awareness of tension even in my very-mixed neighborhood. Day-by-day, things are fine with our neighbors but when something racially ugly comes down, we all retreat to our homes and stay silent rather than gathering together in support of each other. It makes me sad.
Bossman is on crutches and in a boot until the middle of March. He lost his footing during an ice storm last month and bruised the foot black, then walked on it and refused to go to the doctor to have it examined. A co-worker dropped a heavy SOP book on it at work, and then he stepped on a gumball (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liquidambar_styraciflua) in a parking lot and something went "pop!" and finally he agreed to have it looked at. Five weeks after he'd first injured it. X-rays reveal that he torqued a bone a bit but also cracked it. It is an outside bone (the long ones) of his instep. Stepping on the gumball caused the cracked bone to separate nearly all the way down the shaft, so he cannot walk on it at all. If it is healing by the middle of March, then he may be able to get something smaller than the clunky boot to wear until it is completely knitted. If not, he will have to be scheduled for surgery - and as I just pointed out to him this morning, that means we will not be attending Pennsic this year. There is no way I could load/unload/set-up all by myself, much less reverse the process to leave afterwards. I could hire helpers for packing out. But we were to go as staff members and would not be able to have a crew there during staff week to help us unload and set up. Folks onsite are already working their butts off, usually against the clock. He had not even thought of that until today. I think it might have helped bring home that when he injures himself, he needs to see a doctor. I remember quite clearly the time when I ended up nagging him for months over his "pulled chest muscles" from Pennsic-tide (early August) until just before Christmas, when our GP finally realized that something was wrong. He had gone in in late August as a result of my nagging, but was told it was just strained muscles. I waited a month, honest, before I started on him about going back in - 'sprained muscles' shouldn't hurt worse, or begin swelling when you are babying them. It was cancer, and he is danged lucky that it hadn't invaded more than a few ribs. It's gone now and yet that didn't teach him to take care of his body.
