[Nfbmt] How far have we really come?

[Bruce&Joy Breslauer]

I wish I could go this year too.  I am planning for next year.  Joy

-----Original Message-----
From: Nfbmt [mailto:nfbmt-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Rik James via
Nfbmt
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2014 10:45 AM
To: Dan Burke; NFB of Montana Discussion List
Subject: Re: [Nfbmt] How far have we really come?

Joy,

That flowery poem is what it is. And mostly it is, I think, pretty silly,
and mostly pretty aggravating. I agree, that comparisons amongst the things
that a person may experience and live with every day, or what came to be
known as a disability in the modern culture, is different that what will be
called normal is a waste and an insult mostly to anyone who has one of the
conditions that gets mentioned. And like you say, Joy, it has the affect of
really making one feel actually worse rather than better.

One old timer I knew first made a similar statement, though more succinct,
and not too flowery.
I used to sack potatoes with him in a grocery warehouse in Billings.
He really was a very humble and wonderful person. I was 22. He was 62. Very
poor, not much education, and we became very good friends. He had been
raised in Poplar, MT, and liked to say that he had come to Montana on a
pillow on his mother's lap, in the 1900s. He had been a worker in the CCC
during the great depression and was on the crew who built Fort Peck Dam.

He said this.
"I complained about not having any shoes, until I saw the person with no
feet."
That was it.

But knowing his hard life, it spoke to me, and I have never forgotten it.
Because he really did not ever complain. And he had lots of things that he
could have been justified for him to do so.
Is this the same as that poem? Maybe in some way.

The world is mine, the big line in that poem, I think is supposed to mean,
when we have life, it is precious. And we should not be complaining about
our lot. But I think the author goes on and ruins it by all that other
flowery comparison stuff.

But then. I actually just love to complain. This or that thing. I can go on
and on, flit from branch to branch on the Complaint tree.

But actually, speaking of feet. I must beat feet.
I am supposed to be packing, not pecking!

I wish to heck you were joining us, Joy!  We could go on and on about this!

Smile, and let it be your umbrella.
Your friends are our friends. Whatever we do, we figure it all out.

Rik


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