White Bird Must Fly...

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life.

Two old friends meet again
Wearin' older faces
And talk about the places they've been~~~Michael Murphy; MAYBE THIS TIME

I just haven't been inspired to write in my journal over these last few weeks. The loss of four and one-half hours of essay writing in the "I FELT THE EARTH MOVE" entry, just took the winds right out of my sails. The essay was five and one-half hours of heart & soul. It is not like one can just 'up' and recreate the spontaneity of what one is trying to convey with the richness of metaphor, creativity, and animation.

By and large, the week up through the 17 September, 2011 was without anything of notoriety. On Saturday, 17 September 2011, I did participate in something that I was looking forward to. The complexion of the detail changed slightly, but I was still in good company, so I felt good about attending. My primary company/aide had to step away at the last minute because of a personal matter, but my secondary company/aide(and the long-time friend of my primary) was able to step in, and was always there for help, and quality-time conversations. The below is the summary that I posted on my FACEBOOK page to recognize the event---and some of the pivotal people involved.

This is a public expression of appreciation to Commander Pat Nealon of AMERICAN LEGION POST 527 of Hamburg, NY & his wife Martha for including me in the Southern Tier Wine Tasting Tour, Saturday, 17 Sept. The tour included Sparkling Ponds Winery, Quincy Cellars, and Liberty Vineyards. The considerations for my accommodations was always present and accounted for. And Todd the Bus driver, was a Smooth Operator. A salute to the Commander, his wife, and the AHS contingent. [The AHS contingent was on the diminutive side this time; being all of Martha, Marietta, Ann, and myself].
Kevin, the owner of Quincy Cellars, was a class-act. Very engaging in the effort to make sure we all were included.

Sunday 18 September 2011 had the usual ingredients that started the day off. We went to the 11:30AM Mass @ St Joseph's University Parish Church. And as we often do, Donna, Nicole, and I went to The GREEK TO ME Restaurant for a little lunch. It was nice that Nicole was sharing the Catholic Service with us. She has not been to a Catholic Mass in a very very long time. Of course, there is the Mr. Hyde side-of-me that wonders if any of THIS really matters anyway. It is the Dr. Jykell side of me which holds on to THE PROMISE that this does matter; the promise that has an accompanying hand in mine, and together, we will travel together through the ends of time. While we; Nicole mostly, is talking about experiences, the Bills game is on their TV. As we are leaving, the half-time score is 24-3, Oakland leading. I have to think that pretty much everybody resigned themselves to the fact that the exhilaration of the Opening-Day victory against Kansas City had paved its way to the reality of what Buffalo Bills football actually translates to. But!!!!!!!!! By the closing seconds of the game, the Bills will have pulled off one of the most amazing comebacks in their team-history. In the waning seconds Fitzpatrick hurls a pass into the end-zone to Jones, to give the Bills a 38-35 victory!! Facebook was abuzz for the rest of day, because of this sensation.

Tuesday 20 September, because it is a day that I am not scheduled downtown, I put together an agenda to get some tasks completed. One of them was to get over to the SSA Office to turn in my next set of pay-stubs. In accomplishing this objective, I usually will travel up Sheridan Dr. As I am making my way up Delaware Ave to Sheridan Dr., I am now observing something that is just fascinating!! Ahead of me, in the passing lane, waiting for the traffic-control light to change, is a sky-blue late-model Mustang. The passenger door window is dropped all the way down, and straddling the opening is this larger-sized dog. As all dogs do, this dog just loved having its head stuck out of the window. To assure its stability, the Canine has its right paw placed against the side-view mirror. The icing on the cake to this imagery, is that the canine is sporting WW I aviator goggles!!! What keeps my interest is that this motorist is now doing what I have to do; turn right onto Sheridan Dr. As I am watching this just a couple of car-lengths behind--along Sheridan Dr, I am starting to think; "Lou, you have to get a picture of this---this is so insanely cute!!"

I did get a cell-phone picture. It was tough to pull-off, as explained in my FACEBOOK LINK posting that reads as follows:
Check out this Canine!! The Canine is wearing WW I fighter-pilot goggles!! Not a bad picture considering I am doing this with a cell phone, on Sheridan Dr, NOON traffic, at approximately 45MPH!!!

The best way to appreciate it was to have seen it up close and personal. The picture is fairly descent considering that, as I mentioned, the picture was taken with a cell phone. There was quite a bit of traffic on Sheridan Dr as it was Noon traffic, and everybody is going around 45 MPH!! And, oh yes, I need to keep my right hand free because that is the hand that is supposed to move my right leg from peddle to brake---and visa-verse!! The picture posting LINK did create a little bit of a sensation on my FACEBOOK Wall.

So after this sensation, I get to the SSA Office, and the real-world chimes right-in on me. The SSA Office is loaded with people, so I decide I am not going to 'waste' my time. I ended up going to the SSA Office on Friday 23 September.

I really have to say something about this, too. Especially because it has been a LONG knock-down, dragged-out, battle for 6 weeks now. The reciprocal walker that I ordered from Sheridan Surgical, isn't going to be procured from Sheridan Surgical. Apparently with all of the wholesale sources they have at their disposal, nobody can provide the walker to Sheridan Surgical so it can, in turn, be purchased at the retail level. Upon learning of this, I proceed to Benson Surgical on Delaware Ave, and they have one right out on the floor---as a floor-display. I give it a road-test on the floor of Benson and I find---just-what-the-doctor-ordered. This was on Tuesday 13 September, 2011. To put the purchase through my health-insurance carrier, I need to obtain a script from my doctor stating Reciprocal Walker to aid in ambulation. Cake-walk; right?!?!? So wrong!! OUR MODEL Current health care system. You know---the one that is supposed to be the greatest in the world; the one that is so great and effective and efficient that WE DON'T NEED ANYTHING to try to improve it. The doctor; the physical therapist DOCTOR that recommended me to graduate to the walker, from two canes, to better ambulate when assuming the upright position, CANNOT write a script for me to submit to my health insurance carrier. I have to secure the Script from another specialist. Are you @#$%^&*()_+_)(*&^%$# kidding me!?!? I have been working on this with several doctors whom I will not name; I should, but I will not. THIS IS MY PLEDGE: trust me---DeGraff Wellness Center will NOT get back their LOANER until somebody writes me a SCRIPT for the Walker now on HOLD @ Benson Surgical. It is the principal of the matter. I can afford the $86.00 cost of the walker. But as a cripple, I am still working, in part, to hold down a health insurance benefit. That benefit should be covering their fair share of the costs. It should NOT be coming exclusively out of my pocket.

By Thursday, 22 September, it has now gotten absolutely ridiculous. I get a call from Benson Surgical. They have received a Script. They tell me they cannot submit it; it is not technically worded right!!! I blew up!! I told the operative at Benson---I am not the technician here, I am the customer. YOU call the writer of the Script back, and YOU tell them the technical term for the 'walker' so that BS/BC pays you. I am thinking the Script came from an operative at the DENT CLINIC; I didn't ask. I know I had put some pressure on this 'contact' as well, as a 'writer' for the Script. There is no wonder why health care is so expensive; it is so ineffective and inefficient. Fridays are always good for me. I, in a sigh of relief, received a phone call late 23 September, that my Reciprocal Walker at Banson was now finally, all set and ready to be picked-up!! Hallelujah!!!

CODEX: another manifestation of how much there is the yearning to leave; to no longer be with me, and the almost 2-score time-period we called ours, being no longer relevant, substantive, or worth continuing. Recent posting on FACEBOOK Wall.

White bird must fly; must go to find greener pastures, or at least somebody who is more agile and bountiful than I am to provide. Apparently all the amenities; all the bed & breakfasts---were lies. Or at least her suggestion of enjoyment and appreciation were lies.

White bird in a golden cage; in a land of plenty; provided residuals, provided the finer things in life such as clothing, jewelry, and being placed on a pedestal.

Still alone; still not fulfilled, still not made to feel whole.

But the white bird just sits in her cage,
growing old.She wants to so relinquish herself from me. It certainly appeared that she was enjoying ALL the creature comforts and intimacies of the bed & breakfasts and formal dinners that I made sure was part & parcel of our birthdays, our St. Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, and Anniversary celebrations. Additionally, it is important to note that these occasions were all recognized with all the spectacle AND substance that they deserved. Whatever the Mr Hyde elements and ingredients, in the relationship, that may have put a damper on the relationship, it APPEARED anyway, that the Dr. Jekyll ingredients were such that I felt confidant that we were getting beyond these briars and brambles, together.

This POSTING is as strong a Dear-John-letter, which I have seen, up to this point.

Performed by---Its A Beautiful Day
WHITE BIRD MUST FLY...

White bird,
in a golden cage,
on a winter's day,
in the rain.

White bird,
in a golden cage,
alone.

The leaves blow,
Across the long black road.
To the darkened skies,
in its rage

But the white bird just sits in her cage,
unknown.

White bird must fly
Or she will die

White bird,
dreams of the aspen trees,
with their dying leaves,
turning gold.

But the white bird just sits in her cage,
growing old.

White bird must fly or she will die.
White bird must fly or she will die.

The sunsets come, the sunsets go.
The clouds roll by,and the earth turns old.
And the young bird's eyes do always glow.

She must fly,
She must fly,
She must fly.

White bird,
In a golden cage,
On a winter's day, in the rain.

White bird,
In a golden cage alone.

White bird must fly or she will die.
White bird must fly or she will die.
White bird must fly or she will die.

There is also this posting on the Wall;

CANDLES
By Carl Dennis
If on your grandmother's birthday you burn a candle
To honor her memory, you might think of burning an extra
To honor the memory of someone who never met her,
A man who may have come to the town she lived in
Looking for work and never found it.
Picture him taking a stroll one morning,
After a month of grief with the want ads,
To refresh himself in the park before moving on.
Suppose he notices on the gravel path the shards
Of a green glass bottle that your grandmother,
Then still a girl, will be destined to step on
When she wanders barefoot away from her school picnic
If he doesn't stoop down and scoop the mess up
With the want-ad section and carry it to a trash can.

For you to burn a candle for him
You needn't suppose the cut would be a deep one,
Just deep enough to keep her at home
The night of the hay ride when she meets Helen,
Who is soon to become her dearest friend,
Whose brother George, thirty years later,
Helps your grandfather with a loan so his shoe store
Doesn't go under in the Great Depression
And his son, your father, is able to stay in school
Where his love of learning is fanned into flames,
A love he labors, later, to kindle in you.

How grateful you are for your father's efforts
Is shown by the candles you've burned for him.
But today, for a change, why not a candle
For the man whose name is unknown to you?
Take a moment to wonder whether he died at home
With friends and family or alone on the road,
On the look-out for no one to sit at his bedside
And hold his hand, the very hand
It's time for you to imagine holding.

Source: Poetry (April 2002).

I truly am not sure that she fully understands the last four lines of this poem. She subsequently remarks in the comment thread of her FACEBOOK posting how this poem had her become 'misty-eyed'. I am not sure why, because I think she missed the whole point of the poem. I can't see her getting misty-eyed---over me.

Even on my deathbed; alone again---naturally.

Must post CODEX MATERIAL---and material about the volumes of literature I now possess
for supper and evening reading!!

In the absence of people, my suppers and my after-dinner-time have, of late, become filled with a form of quality-time interactivity. This time, it is in the form of the printed media. I have procured from NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC some very beautifully leather-bound, and written, history and science books. These are large, hard-covered, with the pages of a laminated gloss finish. At this point, I have been reading from The New Solar System, The World History, and The Medieval History. Some of the volumes to be included in this collection, for supper companionship, will be The Ancient Empires, and Indian Cultures.

At Mass on this Sunday, 25 September 2011, she has chosen to no longer hold my hand.
White bird MUST fly, or she will die; she apparently is convinced of this. I never thought I held her 'down' that she SHOULD HAVE TO take such flight.

--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise