One Man's Annoying / Aggravating / Funny / Interesting Access Picture

I haven’t written a post on this blog since May, so I thought that I would start working my way back into writing more frequent posts again with a new entry to my picture series – which  incidentally, I haven’t done since early 2013. Regardless, from a wheelchair-user’s perspective when I see a picture like this, where a path goes from completely accessible to not in an instant, I think “Ok, what next?” I’ve never experienced anything quite this extreme, but have come close. A few years ago I had to deal with both a sidewalk and road creating quite the dead end challenge on the way to a doctor appointment. 

The most convoluted re-route I had to take was on the way back from a bachelor party in downtown Minneapolis about 5 years ago. We started out by the Target Center and on the way from one spot to another I had to roll over part of a sidewalk that had a board covering it due to construction. The board only covered about 3/4 of the of the sidewalk and it was the corner that was left exposed, leaving a gap that my chair’s wheels could get stuck in. On the way to the spot I had a group of guys to help me out, but on my way back I was alone and didn’t dare try rolling over the board without help in case I got stuck late at night. I tried to take a detour around the block but ran into stairs one way and no sidewalk curb cut out the other way. At a certain point I got so twisted around that I wasn’t sure where I was. And my chair’s battery power was running low to boot. Uh oh. Ultimately, I found door to a building that had and elevator that went up to the skyway system and instinctually started heading in the direction of the parking ramp my van was parked in. Thankfully, my instinct was correct, because at that time at night with minimal battery power there wasn’t a lot of room to not find my way on the first try. I can’t tell you how relieved I was to get home that night!

New EasyStand Blog post: Triple Feature Update

Forgive me for sounding like a broken record for starting this post in a similar way that I started a post on this blog last July, but I couldn’t believe that just like that almost 4 months have gone by between posts on this blog. Time sure flies. Once upon a time I was a pretty prolific writer on this blog, but the difference between then and now is that I was mostly unemployed during this blog’s first handful of years, and seemingly had endless time to develop content. But over the past year I’ve, finally, had consistent and stable full-time employment. Throw in the fact that I switched my every other day long morning personal care routine to the evenings to accommodate the stricter 8:30-5 nature of my work schedule—which essentially cuts out hours of my after work free time every other night—that work has been busy, my nonprofit has been demanding much more of my time (which is great, honestly), and that I’m spending a lot of spare time on maintaining a relationship, my writing time has suffered considerably.

So therefore, I’m doing a triple feature update on my last three EasyStand Blog posts, which is only the writing I’ve had time to do lately:

1) “Humor: The Key to a Successful PCA Relationship”: In this post I broke down the importance that humor plays in working with my PCAs.

2) “Battling Handicapped Parking Abuse”: In this post I wrote about one of the many instances of rampant handicapped parking abuse that I’ve witnessed first hand and offered up some suggestions about how we could battle back.

3) “Winter Parking and Bonus Accommodations”: This one is bittersweet. This is a post about how nice it is when people offer me a nice accessibility accommodation before I ask for one (i.e. a bonus accommodation). When I submitted my final draft to the blog it was just a shade over 1000 words and offered up a lot of background and context that lead up to my discussion about the bonus accommodation. But between posting my final draft and it going live on the site the title got changed, 400 words were cut, and a few other sentences were changed to phrase things in ways that I wouldn’t. To say that I was frustrated would be a huge understatement. We had a back and forth and I don’t agree with their reasoning for making such significant edits. But in the end, 60% of the post that went live on the site is still over 90% mine, so I’m not going to be a pouty pants and not share it.

One Man's Annoying / Aggravating / Funny / Interesting Access Picture

I started a new job on a document review project for a downtown Minneapolis law firm about three weeks ago. Parking downtown is always an extra challenge for me for three reasons: 1) most parking lots/ramps have automated ticket dispensing machines, which can be tricky to grab with my limited finger use (I wrap a piece of duct tape around my finger for extra grip), 2) expense, and 3) proximity to where I work—the latter especially noteworthy in Minnesota winter weather. When I mapped the work location out the night before I started the job I was thrilled to see that there was a parking ramp directly across the street, that as an extra added bonus was connected via skyway.

This is a picture of the closest accessible parking space to the elevator that takes you from the parking ramp to the skyway level. It’s one of the most interesting parking spots I’ve ever parked in. What you maybe can’t tell from the picture is that my van’s radio antenna is butted right up to that caution sign and that exhaust vent hangs over the hood of my van, which was a little disconcerting. But I had no choice other than to park that close so the back end of my van didn’t stick out too far in the drive lanes of the ramp. It was a very tight parking ramp.

Regardless, I only parked there on my first day of work because it cost $18 for the day. The ramp is connected to a hotel and they really jack up the price. I’ve since found a parking ramp that is $6.50 a day. But I have to roll approximately a mile through about five buildings and six skyways to get to where I work. It’s an interesting twice a day commute via wheelchair.

New EasyStand Blog post: Making the Return to Work Accessible, Part 2

In my new EasyStand Blog post I break down my return to work and how I (essentially) make disability access buttons magically appear. Please check out “Making the Return to Work Accessible, Part 2.”

New EasyStand Blog post: This Winter Deserves a High Five

Check out my new EasyStand Blog post about the warmest and most accessible winter season of my life: This Winter Deserves a High Five.

New EasyStand Blog Guest Post

In my new monthly guest post for the EasyStand Blog I channel a little Hollywood magic and describe how “I Live My Life Three Inches at a Time.” Please check it out.

One Man's Annoying / Aggravating / Interesting Access Picture

This is a series of pictures I took a few months ago. One of my doctors has an office in my neighborhood about 6 blocks from my apartment building, and since the weather was decent I decided to roll down the sidewalk to my appointment. Between my place and the doctor’s office building I knew there was road construction that had been ongoing for most of the summer, but didn’t realize how badly it blocked sidewalk access. The most seamless path that I planned on taking revealed a brand new sidewalk that was completely blocked off, presumably to cure the concrete. At the end of the sidewalk on the other side of the street I encountered the signs in the picture below indicating that the crosswalk I needed to use was closed on account of the construction.

As you can see in the picture below the sidewalk wasn’t just blocked off, it was non-existent. My doctor’s office is in the second building on the right in the background.

From the vantage point above the sidewalk curls to the right and comes upon a driveway to a parking lot with the vantage point in the picture below. I couldn’t cross the street to use the sidewalk on the other side because both the crosswalk there and the one at the end of the block were also under construction. Moreover, there was a sign that said “No Pedestrian Crossing.” At that point I sat there trying to figure out what to do. Without sidewalks my only other recourse was to go straight down the street about a block and a half, partially through the construction zone.

Right as I was starting to head back to my place I had a “screw it” moment and went for it. Cars were driving at a fairly steady pace but I picked my moment and shot up the street with the flow of traffic as fast as my wheelchair could go and then crossed over to the blocked off from traffic side of the street to the right of the orange cones below. It was a tad hair-raising. But no guts no glory. I was so close and had already come that far. I was a little late to the appointment but at least I made it.

Luckily, on my return there was barely any traffic so I rolled down the street the two blocks it took to get back on the sidewalk again, getting back on the sidewalk just as a car behind me passed me. I’m sure I got some odd looks and all I was missing was a slow moving vehicle sign on the back of my chair. But this is just a prime and frustrating example of the kinds of access denied/alternative path crap you have to deal with when you use a wheelchair.

A Positive Inaccessible Taxi-ing Situation Update

Back in late September I wrote a post on the EasyStand Blog called “An Inaccessible Taxi-ing Situation” that was about inaccessible taxicabs in New York City. Read the post for more details, but to quickly recap New York recently made a decision to change their fleet of cabs to the so-called “Taxi of Tomorrow” but the problem is that the Taxi of Tomorrow (a Nissan NV-200) is not wheelchair accessible, so countless people with disabilities who use wheelchairs cannot hail a cab in New York. Moreover, it will be the taxicab in service for the next ten years which makes it even more difficult for people who use wheelchairs to get around via taxicabs. Clearly, that is a big problem. Currently, only 231 out of 13,000 New York taxicabs are accessible, which is a horrible and unacceptable ratio for one of the biggest cities in the world.

More frustrating is that the decision about the new cabs was made with full knowledge that they were inaccessible and that some cheaper accessible options were available as well. Even worse than that were the very offensive remarks that New York Mayor Bloomberg directed at wheelchair users who have advocated for greater access to the city’s taxicabs. Most notably, he said it would be “too dangerous” for wheelchair users to try to hail a cab, that most taxi drivers would “pretend they didn’t see them,” that wheelchair users “sit too far from the driver to establish a dialogue” and therefore “they would not tip well.” He also suggested that the cabs will weigh too much, use too much gas, and that there is too much “dangerous” space between the backseat and the front of the cabs and that people were going to get hurt because of it. Yikes. Ridiculous.

As you could guess, this inaccessible taxi situation didn’t fly with the disability community and accordingly the United Spinal Association filed a disability discrimination lawsuit in federal court in New York in January 2011. As far as that goes, some good strides have been made recently to make those taxicabs more accessible. First, on December 20, 2011 Governor Cuomo and lawmakers reached a deal to approve a bill that calls for 6,000 new street-hail licenses to be issued to livery cabs in the outer New York City boroughs and upper Manhattan.  But Cuomo threatened to veto the bill unless the legislature addressed the low number of the city’s accessible taxi vehicles. The result is that there will now be 3,200 more accessible taxi vehicles on New York roads. The deal to improve the city’s overall accessibility was applauded by tens of thousands of New York veterans and people with disabilities.

Then about a week later,  in what was hailed as a landmark victory for the disability community, a federal judge ruled that New York City’s Taxi and Limousine Commission was in violation of the Americans with Disabilities Act for failing to provide access to taxicabs for wheelchair users. The ruling states that until the TLC produces a comprehensive plan to provide meaningful access it can only issue new medallions to wheelchair accessible taxis. In his ruling U.S. District Judge Greg Daniels wrote, “Meaningful access for the disabled to public transportation services is not a utopian goal or political promise, it is a basic civil right.” Amen.

In in this fight that has lasted more than a decade Judge Daniel’s ruling was a very huge victory, but the war to get all of New York’s taxicabs wheelchair accessible rages on.

The article linked  in the paragraph above has a lot of good quotes about disability independence, etc. so be sure to give it a full read.

 

New EasyStand Blog Guest Post: An Inaccessible Taxi-ing Situation

My new monthly guest post for the EasyStand Blog is finished and posted live on the site today. I offer my take on the story about the ongoing inaccessible taxi situation in New York City. Please give it a read: An Inaccessible Taxi-ing Situation.

One Man's Annoying / Aggravating / Interesting Access Picture of the Week

This is a pic of a wheelchair accessible porta potty that I used at Lakefront Days in Prior Lake, MN last month. Last year on this blog I offered up a pic of an extra big accessible porta potty outside of downtown Minneapolis’ Kieran’s Irish Pub where they were gearing up for St. Patrick’s Day. Up until then I had my doubts about how accessible said accessible porta potties actually were, but I never had a reason to use one and only saw them from a distance. Since nobody was around when I went past Kieran’s that day I decided to peek inside and even roll inside a little but had no reason to use it. But when I was at Lakefront Days it was a really hot day and I had a lot of water and beer to drink and nature called immediately. When I struck off to find a bathroom I had no idea what I would find and when I found an accessible porta potty I was relieved. So I gave it a shot and I can happily report that it worked out well. There was plenty of room inside to fully turn around so I could both lock the door and get close enough to use the toilet. Of course, it was probably the most careful and controlled leak I’ve ever taken because the difference between using that toilet and one almost anywhere else is that anything that falls in is an instant donation to the local sewage treatment plant. But the next time I see one I won’t hesitate to use it. And thus another door of accessibility opened up in my world, which is huge in a way because when you gotta go, you gotta go.

One Man’s Annoying / Aggravating / Interesting Access Picture of the Week

So can wheelchair users still park there?

One Man’s Annoying / Aggravating / Interesting Access Picture of the Week

Once upon a time when I was barely a teenager I excused myself from dinner with my family at our local country club when nature called after one too many cherry Cokes (made with Coke and Grenadine, garnished with cherries). When I turned the corner inside the bathroom to head toward the urinals I was immediately and unexpectedly besieged with this truly amazing sight to behold: lined up in front of one of the urinals was a man in his mid-seventies standing with his feet a shade wider than shoulder width apart, the palm of his left hand was planted firmly on the wall about shoulder level so he could brace himself, in his right hand was a lit cigarette which he set on the edge of the top of the urinal between puffs, his pants were butterflied all the way open, and he was urinating completely hands free.

The latter was a feat unto itself because in the handful of times I tried it myself after that day it quickly became a fire drill of preventing myself from peeing on the floor, myself, or my shoes. It also reminds me of a joke that my good friend’s dad used to tell, which was that he asked his doctor for prescription for Viagra but wasn’t interested in using it for sex, rather he just wanted to take a quarter dose so he wouldn’t pee on his shoes. I took a college class from him once and he said that to the whole group and I was the only one who chuckled. But I digress…

The guy had set up shop in the middle urinal of three so I had no choice but to sidle right up next to him. As he exhaled a cloud of smoke and put his cigarette back on the urinal he asked, “How are you doing son?” I said fine and tried to tend to my business as quickly as possible, eyes tightly forward despite being curious as to the hands free “physics” at work to my left. I finished, washed my hands, and got the hell out of there leaving him in the same position that I had left him. How he managed to keep his urination going for the length of that cigarette I didn’t care to know.

So other than waxing nostalgic about an awkward one off bathroom experience from my youth why am I sharing this anecdote? Because only that guy with that particular urination stance in that specific set of circumstances would appreciate the “accessibility” of the urinal in the picture below because the bars would give him something to hold on to while he burned one during his hands free piss. Otherwise, unless somebody wants to do modified bicep curls or chin ups while they take a leak, I don’t understand how putting those grab bars at chest and overhead level would benefit anyone with a disability. Or how putting those bars and that sign there makes it a disability specific urinal for that matter. Granted, it’s been almost fifteen years since I stood at a urinal to urinate, but for most guys taking a leak is a two hand job: one to hold the pants/underwear aside and the other to aim, if you will. So why anyone, disability or not, would use those grab bars to hold onto escapes me. And even if they did it seems to me that they would be far benefitial if placed lower or to the side. As can often be the case with accessibility, someone completely over- or under thought that one. It just looks ridiculous. Or an accessibility fail, as the pic points out.

Photo Source

New EasyStand Blog Guest Post: Accessible Parking for Pregnancy? Count Me Out

My new guest post on the EasyStand Blog went live today. I analyze a recent legislative-accessibility-accommodation-disability trend that I'm not a fan of—providing handicapped accessible parking for pregnancy. So please check out: Accessible Parking for Pregnancy? Count Me Out.

One Man's Annoying / Aggravating / Interesting Access Picture of the Week

Apparently, this egregious and boneheaded violation of disability access is also Built By The Home Depot.

Recalling My Very Wild and Unusual Attorney Swear In Ceremony

In every lifetime there are those moments or events where you just want everything to go perfectly as planned. These typically include things like graduation day, a first date with someone you’re crazy about, your marriage proposal, your wedding day, a job interview, a public speaking event, etc. For me, getting sworn in as an attorney was one of those big deal life events where I hoped things would fall right into place. Three years ago today, on December 11, 2007, I was sworn in as a licensed Minnesota attorney in front of the Minnesota Supreme Court. It was a proud day for both me and my family. Not only was it the culmination of four tough years of law school and the passing of the bar exam, but a pretty cool legal right of passage to boot.

But unfortunately having it all go off without a hitch wasn’t in the cards that day. Far from it as it were. Because when you live my lifestyle inexplicable and unexpected things related to my spinal cord injury and/or wheelchair tend to spring up at the most inopportune times. Thus December 11, 2007 became “one of those days” at the worst time possible.

The ceremony was scheduled to begin sharply at 3 pm in the main courtroom of the Minnesota Supreme Court building, which was pretty iconic stuff. I was actually supposed arrive at least fifteen minutes early to sign the requisite paperwork and get situated. The first mistake that I made was having my family drive past the court building in St. Paul to meet me at my apartment in Minneapolis first. I needed help with my suit and tie and they hit traffic, so we didn’t end up parking by the courthouse until 2:45 when I was already supposed to be inside. As a result, I was feeling really rushed.

On top of that I had never been to the Minnesota Supreme Court building before so I didn’t know where I was going or where the front entrance was. When you use a wheelchair and the overall accessibility of a building is in question a trick of the trade is to follow the blue wheelchair access/disability signs. Almost all of the time those signs lead the way to the wheelchair accessible entrance. So as I was hauling ass down the sidewalk of what turned out to be the side of the building I saw a disability access sign that pointed to a certain entrance. “This must be it,” I thought. As I approached it and hit the automatic door button nothing happened. We grabbed the handle to pull the door open and it was locked. Next to the door was one of those talk boxes with a red button. So I pushed the button, someone answered, and I said that I used a wheelchair and needed to get in but the door was locked. They buzzed me in. At the least, it was an annoyance that I could have done without on my way into the building.

Now at that point it didn’t make much sense that that was how I would have to enter the building to get to my ceremony. Why would I have to use a small side entrance that had its door locked during the middle of the day? But again, I was in a rush and I was going on past experience and instinct. After all, in the preceding eleven years of using a wheelchair (at that point) I’d already jumped through way crazier hoops just to enter buildings, and with that court building being a bit older it certainly wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that I needed to take an equally roundabout route. So I proceeded.

What made even less sense though was when I got inside the door and immediately found myself at the top of a staircase. “What the f---?” I thought to myself. I looked to my right and there was a wooden closet looking door with the disability access symbol on it so I opened it up to fund a metal dumbwaiter style elevator-lift big enough to fit one wheelchair. It was exactly like the kind I had to use in my university bookstore to get to the lower floor where the books actually were. I can’t begin to explain how hard it was trying to catch the eye of some college cuties when I had to get in a metal box that very obnoxiously went ZZZZZZZZGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH for a good thirty seconds before it reached the bottom, and vice versa. Very embarrassing.

Now at this point I definitely should have just turned around, gone back out the door I had just come through, and gone down the sidewalk again because there was no way that was the accessible entrance that would take me to the main courtroom of the Minnesota Supreme Court. And as it turns out it wasn’t. But fueled by the fact that I was running late and without giving it a second thought I launched myself into the “elevator,” closed the door behind me, and pressed the down button.

It was pretty much the instant that I hit the button that I had a “I probably shouldn’t be doing this” bad feeling, and sure enough the lift went down about four inches and crapped out. I hit the down button again, nothing. I hit the up button, nothing. Tried them both again, nothing. The emergency button didn’t work either. Great. Already late for what was arguably the biggest event of my life up until that point and I was stuck in some crappy elevator lift I should have known better to not even use in the first place.

Meanwhile, my family was on the floor below waiting for me to come down. Finally, my mom yells out something like, “Are you coming down or what?” I told her I was stuck. I think the response that came back was to try hitting the down button again. I yelled back that I was stuck stuck, as in no buttons worked and I couldn’t move. As everyone came back to the top to see the situation first hand I heard a lady walk in behind me and ask what was going on. My mom told her that I was stuck in the lift. Then she replied, “Oh that thing hasn’t worked for years” and went on her way. well for crying out loud, had ANYBODY thought about posting an “out of order’ sign or something? Unbelievable.

So my now brother-in-law went off to find some maintenance guy to help us and my dad went to let somebody in charge know that I was going to be a little late to the ceremony and to see if they could maybe hold things up for me given the unique circumstances. The longer I was stuck the more pissed off I got. Of all days to get stuck in a broken elevator lift was the one and only day that I would become an official lawyer. What were the odds?

After not too long a wait, albeit by the same token way longer than I’d hoped, the maintenance guy finally showed up. He reiterated that the lift had been broken for quite while. Thanks a pant load for the non-forewarning man! Since he couldn’t get it working again the only solution was to try and pull me out. I couldn’t back out because four inches is too high a threshold to wheel over going either frontwards or backwards with my chair. Also making it no small feat was the fact that my body weight plus my chair weight tops out at around 400 lbs. But between the two of them they were able to lift my back end high enough so I could control my back wheels to help get me back on level ground. Every fiber of my being wanted to bitch him out for not posting some sort of out of order sign, especially since his reaction to me more than implied that it was my fault for getting stuck in the first place, but more than anything I was just relieved to get out and I had to really get moving to get inside.

Down the sidewalk we went again. I got to the corner, hung a left, went about twenty more yards and, duh, there was the main entrance. My dad assured me that they were holding things up for me so that put me at ease a little bit, but my face was red from frustration, my shirt and tie were a little crooked, and in general I felt out of sorts. After I took a moment to straighten out and collect myself in what felt like the longest elevator ride up one floor in history I was finally outside the courtroom entrance.

As I rolled in the doors half embarrassed for being late and half relieved to finally have made it I found myself on the observation level of the courtroom while all the other soon-to-be attorneys attending the ceremony were down on the courtroom floor level. To get down there you had to go through a small swinging door and down a few stairs. So as it turned out although I finally made to the courtroom I still hadn’t actually made it. As all eyes were on me wondering what I was going to do next a courtroom shepherd asked me if I wanted to go down there to join the group. Relieved to finally be in the room but frustrated that the saga continued I said, “That’s ok.” But she assured me that it was just as easy as taking a ramp down the outside of the courtroom to get down there.

So I followed her to the left side of the courtroom where she held open a door for me, told me to go to the bottom of the ramp, and that she would go around and open it up for me. Then I sat there facing the closed door for who knows how long until I heard the door behind me open up again and a voice say, “I’m sorry, that’s not the right way, we actually have to go around to the other side.” Because there wasn’t enough room to turn my chair around I had to back all the way out instead.

As I followed her to the other side it started to feel like I was in the middle of one of those funny ha ha room to room chase sequences like you see on “Scooby Doo” or other similarly replicated comedy montages. By the time I popped out at the bottom of the ramp and entered the courtroom floor the Justice charged with swearing us in was in the middle of his “This is a time-honored profession…” speech. So I was already embarrassed interrupting things, especially with a loud puttering power wheelchair that makes a clickety clack noise whenever it goes in and out of gear. All the other new attorneys were sitting along the outer rim of the courtroom floor and the only spot available was on my end (thankfully) between a lady who pulled her chair over to clear me some room and the courtroom’s witness box. But in order to get myself into position I had to roll through a very tight space between the witness box and a brass bottomed flag stand, and as I squeezed through it my brand new rubber wheelchair tires let out a very loud and mortifying SSQQUUEEKK as they rubbed against the brass, which was essentially the cherry on top of an overall sundae of suck.

Once again I tried to collect myself as coolly and quickly as possible and tried to enjoy the rest of the ceremony as much as I could by putting all of the BS I had just gone through behind me. Obviously, it was a cool thing to be a part of and when I raised my hand and finally got sworn in as a real licensed Minnesota attorney it felt awesome.

After the ceremony everyone lined up to shake the Justice’s hand, chat with him, and get a picture. After everything that I had just been through I was pretty much ready to get the hell out of there and go to dinner, because I don’t remember desperately wanting a drink more at any point in my life. But my parents kind of insisted that we wait around and so we could get a picture with the Justice as well because it could be a something that I would regret not doing someday.

I’m glad I did too because I was last in line so I got some pretty unique one on one time with him. He was actually the Justice that came and spoke in my Criminal Procedure class the fall semester before. That night in class he pretended to punch me in the face while he lead a mini “What is justice?” lecture so I certainly didn’t forget him. When I reminded him of all that he claimed to have recognized me when I rolled into the courtroom. The thing I really thought was cool about him was that he got down on one knee so that he was more on my level to chat with me and take some pictures.

Then the unexpected occurred. With me that day were my parents, my sister, my now brother-in-law (aka my brolaw), and my baby nephew who was eight months old at the time. At some point in true father/grandfather’s pride fashion my dad mentioned to the Justice that my nephew had my name for his middle name. So after that the Justice kept referring to my nephew as “little Shawn.” Then out of nowhere he said, “You know what would make a great picture? If you took little Shawn up above and set him on the court bench.” So my sister and brolaw took my nephew around and sat him down on that Justice’s spot on the supreme court bench and we took a few pictures. Being a Minnesota law historian he then declared that my nephew was the first baby in the history of the Minnesota Supreme Court to sit on the bench. It was pretty awesome. And as it turned out it ended up being a pretty unique and fitting postscript to the whole crazy event.

So as much as I try to plan ahead and play all the angles to prevent wild things from happening, a lot of times the unexpected still wins out and it can be downright tumultuous like it was in this case. But in the end all that matters is that I survived the crappy elevator fiasco, I made it inside for the ceremony better late than never, I still became an officially licensed Minnesota attorney, and in the process we made a little bit of Minnesota Supreme Court history as well. And ultimately, I have a much better story to tell because of it. It also goes without saying that I might not ever be able to look at my attorney’s license card or see the words “Minnesota Supreme Court” and not think about that day.

Floating Beach Wheelchair

As fall is in full swing here in Minneapolis summer is suddenly becoming a fading memory again. Nonetheless, I came across an intriguing accessible beach product worth sharing for those who live in warmer climates, or those already planning ahead to summer 2011: the Mobi-Chair, which is a floatable beach wheelchair. As you can see from the pictures it’s a pretty wild looking concept. Three big flat yellow wheels that can roll easily over the sand without getting caught in ruts, armrests made of those orange rescue tubes that the lifeguards on “Baywatch” used to run around the beach with (often in slow motion), and a striped seat and backrest design reminiscent of a circus tent. The whole chair is designed to allow people with mobility issues to hit the big waves at the beach, or even the smaller ones at the pool.

As much as I miss swimming, and I haven’t been on a beach of any form since the day of my diving accident over fourteen years, my quick take is that I’m not sure this chair would be the ticket for me. The most obvious hindrance from my perspective is how hard it would be to get in and out of the chair. The low to the ground seating profile means that a level seat to seat chair transfer is out. And even if they were at an even level the wide, bulbous armrests would get in the way. Therefore, the only way for someone like me to use the chair would be to have a team of folks lift me in and out. It also looks like there might not be enough back, seat, or lateral support that would make for comfortable sitting for more than a short while.

But that’s just my take. Clearly, a chair like this opens countless doors for others who are very rarely out of their wheelchairs or other mobility devices, let alone able to go for a swim. To wit, this video clip features a sampling of folks with disabilities who are pretty thrilled to be able to get out into the water. Surf’s up dudes!

Get a Clue

I was thinking about calling this “One Man’s Annoying/Aggravating/Interesting Anecdote” or something like that and start a new blog segment, but I decided “Get a Clue” was much more apropos. The point is that I wanted to pass along a few links to a fascinating handicapped parking story I came across not long ago. Here’s the link to the local news story (“Woman sues over handicap parking ticket”) and here’s the link to a related follow up blog post (“Is This Able-Bodied Woman Entitled to Handicapped Parking?”). I can tell you very quickly that the answer is “no.”

The bottom line is that an able-bodied woman illegally parked her Mercedes SUV in a handicapped parking spot, but the more detailed breakdown is that she parked there because her arm was still in a sling from a recent surgery, the surgery left a “huge scar,” she was still on medication, it was raining hard, and she ran into the store for just a few minutes. She returned to her car to find a $300 parking ticket. Pretty open and closed case—busted, pay the fine, live and learn.

But what makes this story fascinating are the assertions that she made after the fact. Now she admitted that she parked in a handicapped spot on purpose, that she does not possess a disability placard, that she does not have a disability, and that what she did was wrong. Still, given the aforementioned circumstances—the arm sling, the “huge scar,” the sore arm, being on medication, and the “torrential” rains—she asserted that she had a disability “that day” and therefore for her to have parked anywhere but the handicapped spot was “unavoidable.” Given that defense, she argued that the $300 parking fine was way too high, and subsequently went on to sue the town of Danvers, Mass. after the parking clerk refused to dismiss her ticket. The nerve! Ridiculous. I’ll just assume that her case won’t get too far.

Unfortunately, these kinds of “I’ll only park there for a few minutes” sets of circumstances happen all the time, all over the country, every day, and has prevented me from finding a parking spot dozens of times over the years. But this inexplicable set of events is a new one on me.

So with that all I can really say to this lady is, “Here’s a quarter (or 1200 in this case), get a clue!”

 

New EasyStand Blog Guest Post: Reserved Parking (Thanks to the ADA)

My latest guest post on the EasyStand Blog has now gone live. Acting within the spirit of yesterday’s 2oth Anniversary of the ADA I shared an anecdote about the accommodation that I am most proud of obtaining: a reserved accessible parking spot at my law school. It took a lot of patience, determination, and back and forth discussions, but it ended up working out better than I could have expected.

So please click the following link to read Reserved Parking (Thanks to the ADA).

One Man's Annoying / Aggravating / Interesting Access Picture of the Week

If someone in a wheelchair just needed to get to the bottom stair then this would be a kick-ass ramp. But getting the rest of the way up the stairs? Well, that's another issue.

One Man's Annoying/Aggravating/Interesting Access Picture of the Week

This week's pics come courtesy of another blog called BeehiveHairdresser. I've never visited their site before today but I saw a Twitter post linking to the "Wheelchair Ramp of Death" and, of course, got highly intrigued. The pictures show a blacktop ramp that makes a sidewalk accessible from the street. Curiously, the ramp is located about twenty feet from the street corner right in front of an on street parking spot. So the "of death" aspect refers to the fact that the bottom of the ramp leads a wheelchair user out into oncoming traffic. Their post dishes more on the details so I will defer to them at this point. For the record, on it's face their comment about the ramp of death "weeding out the population of persons in wheelchairs who are dimwitted" is offensive to many people in wheelchairs, but I myself took it for the sense of humor in which it was no doubt intended.

Check out the Wheelchair Ramp of Death here.