[nfbmi-talk] Great Blog Post from Deon Lyons

Marcus Simmons president at map-n.org
Mon Jan 21 01:59:06 UTC 2013


Thanks, Fred.

I was that way until I went to the training center. The room was dark, so I 
couldn't use my remaining eye sight to evaluate JAWS. So, I had to learn how 
to touch type, or go thru the embarrassment of asking the instructor to turn 
on the lights.

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Fred Wurtzel" <f.wurtzel at att.net>
To: "'NFB of Michigan Internet Mailing List'" <nfbmi-talk at nfbnet.org>; 
"'Richard Boyd'" <revricklansing at gmail.com>; "'William Peterson'" 
<pete317 at sbcglobal.net>; <Marywurtzel at att.net>
Cc: "'Deon Lyons'" <dplion at roadrunner.com>; <farrisl at lcc.edu>
Sent: Sunday, January 20, 2013 7:30 PM
Subject: [nfbmi-talk] Great Blog Post from Deon Lyons


> Hello,
>
>
>
> I do not know this gentleman, personally.  His name is Deon Lyons.  He is
> someone who lost his eyesight later in life.  I absolutely love his 
> attitude
> and response to change.  It is a good lesson for older people who go blind
> and for everyone about change.  You can read his other blog posts at
> www.dplyons.wordpress.com
>
>
>
>
>
> He mentions anger.  I can identify with it.  he points out it is not good
> enough to stop in the anger, it is necessary to act.  For my part I still
> feel the anger, yet I try to use it creatively to move on and turn it into
> love.  Not always easy.  I am working through a few issues and I hope to
> finish them some day.  Anyway Deon has inspired me with his very positive
> and creative way to move on after his anger.  He's a good role model.
>
>
>
> Warmest Regards,
>
>
>
> Fred
>
>
>
> 2013 01 16 Touch Type
>
> January 16, 2013
>
> //
>
> 5
>
> "You should learn how to touch type." She said it again. The air hung
> quietly heavy
>
> with those words that seemed to scratch across the chalkboard. "Touch 
> type?
> Me? Are
>
> you serious?" I awkwardly avoided it again. For the seventieth time, I
> dodged my
>
> wife's attempts to get me to learn how to type like a normal typer, 
> instead
> of the
>
> hunt and peck system which I had come to know and get by with.
>
> I was satisfied with having to look at the keypad all the time. I was
> satisfied trying
>
> to write an email with no capital letters, commas, apostrophes, or any of
> the other
>
> ways to type normally. It was all lower case, and it was all good, and I 
> was
> used
>
> to it. It didn't matter if I couldn't keep up with the chat rooms 
> persistent
> scrolling,
>
> or if most folks couldn't understand my abbreviations with words, it just
> didn't
>
> matter, that is, until I found out that if I was going to be able to use 
> the
> computer
>
> at all, I would have to rely on the keypad alone, and the fact that if I 
> was
> going
>
> to attend the Carroll center, learning to touch type was one of the
> criteria. Everything
>
> I knew about the computer went flying out the window, along with my 
> vision.
> It all
>
> changed, and I had to change if I was ever going to use the computer 
> again.
> Everything
>
> changed, and I had no choice but to change, right along with it.
>
> All of my usual, comfortable traits abruptly came to a halt that summer
> morning in
>
> 2010, and everything screeched to a mucked up, muddled mess of confusion 
> and
> uncomfortable
>
> unfamiliarity.
>
> Is that even a word?
>
> Well, if it ain't, it should be.
>
> The first experience I had with my new way of using computers came when my
> wife and
>
> I went to Augusta, and were introduced to Steve Sawczyn, who was an
> assistive technology
>
> instructor for the State of Maine. He instantly found his way into my 
> world,
> and
>
> instantly fascinated my wife as well. You see, he is blind, like me, and 
> he
> represented
>
> all things possible, which was page one in the first edition of the 
> handbook
> of my
>
> brand new life. He represented all that was available out there, and he
> represented
>
> all of the hard work that was standing in the way of me, and page two. He
> instantly
>
> caught the attention of my wife as he quickly took out his laptop and
> started flying
>
> through the keypad. He went from a Mac operating system, to a windows
> platform, on
>
> the same laptop, in the blink of a keystroke. He did something else that I
> couldn't
>
> quite wrap my head around. He made his computer talk to him. He made his
> computer
>
> talk so fast, I thought I was going to explode with anxiety. He made it 
> all
> look,
>
> and sound so easy though, as he sped his way through the menus and 
> dialogue
> boxes
>
> and drop down lists and everything else that I had no idea about. He
> impressed me,
>
> and scared the hell out of me, and made me mad, and thankful, and 
> grateful,
> and humiliated
>
> and frustrated and hopeful and sad and happy and the exhilarated speed of
> anxiety
>
> reached even higher levels the first time he came to our home with his 
> ever
> amazing
>
> new world. It was a new world, but I quickly learned that it was a new 
> world
> that
>
> was right there, at the tip of my fingers.
>
> I dove head first into my mew, unfamiliar, emotional adventure into a
> strange, new,
>
> digitally dark world. I knew where the flashlight was, but I had to figure
> out which
>
> key command would take me to it. It was a nerve wracking experience that 
> was
> both
>
> amazingly enlightening, and incredibly frightening. I knew what I wanted 
> to
> do with
>
> the computer, I just couldn't see what was on the screen anymore, and it
> made me
>
> mad as hell. I was mad as hell, but I was also fully aware that with an
> attitude
>
> of anger, I would not be able to go anywhere, and I would end up being a
> shivering
>
> puddle of misguided me. This, as I finally convinced myself, was not a
> viable option
>
> at all.
>
> I sit here today, and I am able to tell you that I did learn how to touch
> type, and
>
> with this new learned tool, my writing exploded out onto the monitor, one
> page at
>
> a time. All of the stuff swirling around in my head found its way onto the
> screen,
>
> and page after page, day after day, I have kept on writing. Most times, I
> have no
>
> idea where all of this key punching will take me, but it does, in fact, 
> take
> me.
>
> It takes me here, and there, and way over there, and snaps me right back
> here again.
>
> It takes me inside my head, out through the fields, back in time, ahead 
> into
> the
>
> future, here at home, into my childhood bedroom, through the halls of my
> grade school,
>
> across town, down to the coast, up into the mountains, and in through the
> emotions
>
> of my past. It does all of this, with the simple touch of a key. It does 
> all
> this,
>
> through my fingertips.
>
> I joke sometimes about writing things, and then when I go back and read
> through the
>
> piece, it's like I am reading it for the first time. I know my memory is
> shot, and
>
> my brain stem is waterlogged, and I just don't remember things sometimes,
> but this
>
> is different. This is sort of like an outer body experience. It's like I
> have climbed
>
> into the pc and pulled out something someone else wrote. I actually think
> that I
>
> am possessed sometimes. Probably due to either too much chocolate, or not
> enough
>
> chocolate. I think the latter is more than likely.
>
> That's it. Now, I'm thinking about a bag of Hershey's mini's in the 
> freezer.
>
> Help!
>
> And now I'm back.
>
> Where was I?
>
> Oh yes, I got it.
>
> I recently, in the last couple days, finished a fiction novel that I 
> started
> writing
>
> back in the fall of 2011. This venture has taken me places that I never
> dreamed of.
>
> It's a novel full of my memories of places, and people, and events, and 
> just
> things
>
> in general. It's a novel full of me, and as I wrote it, I actually
> rediscovered things
>
> about my past that caused me to laugh, cry, and get filled up with some of
> the same
>
> emotions that raced through me as a young man. It showed me many of my
> emotions that
>
> poured out of me, onto the screen. It told me many different stories that 
> I
> had no
>
> idea were inside of me. It told and showed me a side of me that I had 
> always
> felt
>
> comfortable with, but usually tended to overlook. It raced out of me, 
> around
> the
>
> room, and fell onto the screen. It was a marvelous adventure that I had 
> been
> waiting
>
> fifty two years for. It was part of me, and I became part of it.
>
> I'm not sure what I am going to do with this amazing thing that I've 
> typed,
> but one
>
> thing is for sure, I will never forget the story, nor the experience of
> writing it,
>
> and if that's all I ever get done with it from here on out, then I am much
> more the
>
> better because of it, and have no regrets what so ever.
>
> I never know where my typing will take me. I never know what's around the
> next space
>
> bar, or the next shift key, or the next comma, or quotation mark. I never
> know what
>
> is going to be at the bottom of the page, but I do know, that if I hadn't
> learned
>
> how to touch type, there wouldn't be anything at the bottom of the page.
>
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