[stylist] Chris Kuell in current Braille Monitor

[Atty Rose]

>From a blind person who has been slammed in the face a few times, you go 
captain!
I know it probably sucked and hurt and made you want to kick puppies, but it 
was sure funny the way you wrote it. LOL

Love,
Atty

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Bridgit Pollpeter" <bpollpeter at hotmail.com>
To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, January 03, 2014 8:50 PM
Subject: [stylist] Chris Kuell in current Braille Monitor


>
>                      Blind Guy versus the Rhododendron
>                               by Chris Kuell
>
>>From the Editor: Chris Kuell is president of the Danbury Chapter of the
>
>>NFB
> of Connecticut and the father of two children. His daughter is a senior
> in high school and plans to attend the University of Connecticut to
> major in psychology. His son, a senior at the same university, plans to
> get a graduate degree and become an English teacher. The article we are
> reprinting appeared in the Fall 2013 issue of the Minnesota Bulletin and
> relates an interesting incident that occurred when Chris was walking his
> elementary-school-aged children to school every day. Here is what he
> says:
>
>      One of the better aspects of losing my job along with my sight is
> that I get to spend more time with my kids. Every morning I walk them
> the half mile to school, and I return in the afternoon to accompany them
> home. During our walks they tell me about their days, who got in
> trouble, who likes whom, and how a kid named Brian always cheats at
> kickball.
>      We live in an old neighborhood, and along my route are a dozen
> homes with bushes planted near the sidewalk. While there are several
> varieties, they all inevitably grow outwards, eager for the opportunity
> to snag an unobservant pedestrian. At the beginning of every school year
> I bring a pair of clippers with me as I drop the kids off, and on my way
> home I help those who are too busy to trim their bushes.
>      One house has a huge rhododendron bush, which must be decades old.
> Tall and thick, branches hang over the sidewalk like a canopy. When it's
> blooming, the fragrance is unmistakable, and I'm sure it's quite
> beautiful.
>      I'm about five foot eleven, and I could feel the presence of one
> close branch as I passed underneath. Following a heavy rain, the branch
> got heavier, hung lower, and whacked me in the head. After the third or
> fourth such incident with the wayward branch, I asked around and found
> out the name of the homeowner. I called and left a message stating that
> I was the neighborhood blind guy and that their shrubbery had assaulted
> me and asking if they would please do something about it. Several weeks
> went by and no action was taken, so I followed up with another, stronger
> phone message. When winter came, the aggressive branch adopted a regular
> five-foot nine stance. Most days I was able to duck and miss it. But
> every now and then I'd wind up with another hunk of flesh donated to the
> rhododendron god and five more points on my blood pressure reading. I
> sent a letter asking the homeowner please to take care of the bush. I
> even volunteered to help tie the branch up higher if they needed
> assistance. Nobody did anything.
>      One morning we all got up late because the power had gone out and
> the alarm clock hadn't worked. Everybody scrambled to get ready on time.
> During the frenzy I knocked a box of cat food on the floor, accidentally
> poured orange juice on my cereal, and misplaced my left shoe, so I
> wasn't feeling particularly loving or charitable. The kids had warned me
> to duck on the way to school, but the battering bush got me on my return
> trip. As Popeye used to say, "That's all I can stands, I can't stands no
> more!"
>      At home I stuck a wad of toilet paper on the gash in my forehead
> and grabbed my tree saw. I tapped back down the street, with one arm
> raised protectively in front of me, and located the assailant. At first
> I started trimming small branches to take weight off the thick bough
> overhanging the sidewalk, but this was time-consuming and had little
> effect. So I went to the major branch, one evil nub still sticky with my
> blood, and started to saw.
>      About this time I heard a car pull into the driveway and stop, not
> five feet from me. This was a little awkward. While I'm no lawyer, I
> figured that cutting down a neighbor's bush was probably illegal. But
> the car just sat there idling. I imagine the driver, presumably the
> homeowner, was frightened by the sight of the angry blind guy, a wad of
> bloody toilet paper stuck to his forehead, waving a saw around like the
> villain in a bad horror movie. I did a quick mental calculation and
> figured that, if the driver had called the cops on a cell phone, I was
> already in trouble, so I might as well finish the job. I found where I'd
> been cutting, completed the amputation, and dragged the limb to the edge
> of the property. Still no activity from the vehicle, so I picked up my
> cane, gave them my best Jack Nicholson smile, wished them a good day,
> and returned home.
>      I don't expect to be invited over any time soon for a barbeque,
> but at least my forehead and hairline will stay intact. Now, if I could
> only do something about the guy who refuses to shovel his sidewalk.
>
>
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