In Memory of K-Mart Dude

About five years ago, I picked up and moved to an island in Florida.  I didn't know a single soul there, and of course, I was apprehensive about picking up and starting a new life on my own.  To top it all off, I moved smack dab in the middle of the Summer, when the islanders all flee home for cooler climates.  Needless to say, no one rolled out the red carpet for me.  Except for one individual.

There is a duplex across the street from my condo unit.  At the time, an “older” couple lived there.  They were extremely friendly.  They smiled and waved and told me what day to put out the trash.  Were it not for them, it would have taken me a lot longer to settle in.  In fact, he was the first local I spoke to after taking possession of my house, outside of the Realtor.  No one in the condo took the time to even notice I arrived, but the couple across the street went out of their way to notice me and make me feel welcome.

I remember my first trip off of the Island.  I went to the local K-Mart to buy those things you inevitably find you need in a new house.  As I was browsing the aisles, I had a sense of someone behind me.  I turned around to see the friendly man across the street. 

“Hi there,” he said warmly.  “Are you finding everything you need okay?”

“Thank you.  I'm still trying to figure out all it is I need, “ I replied.

“Do you know who I am?”  He asked.  Without waiting for an answer or an awkward moment, he continued “I live across the street from you.  Welcome to the neighborhood.  Can we do anything to help you settle in?”  he asked.

Being that we live in a resort community, his next question didn't phase me at all.  “Are you a seasonal person, or are you going to be here more often?”

“No.” I replied.  “I'm not in a dual-residence income bracket.  I can only afford one home,” I joked. 

“Glad to hear that.  You're just what we need in the neighborhood.  We think we're going to like having you across the street.”

That conversation meant more to this scared little transplant than I ever let on. 

Two days later, Hurricane Charley approached, and we had to evacuate the Island.  K-Mart Dude saw me as I pulled back into my driveway, and took the time to welcome me back.

“Don't worry.  We don't have evacuations like that very often around here.  And as you can see, the Island made it through all right.”

A few short weeks later, another storm approached.  I still knew like nobody in the local area.  K-Mart Dude saw me out walking my dog, and he took the time to approach me, to calm me about the oncoming storm.  He told me that most of the locals were not going to evacuate, and I shouldn't feel like I had to either.  He told me we'd probably be flooded in, but said that they'd be sitting it out across the street if I felt scared.  When we all waded out front a few days later, again, he took the time to check on me to see that I'd made it through my first storm all right.  He joked that at least I'd had power a day longer than he, and we laughed while trying to figure out how to string an extension cord across the street so they could save what was still cold in their freezer. 

Unfortunately, after a few short years, K-Mart Dude and his wife moved off the Island.  I never saw him again, but I thought of him often.  Today, I heard that he passed away.

Ironically, in the time since K-Mart Dude moved, I have become very close with the person who lives in the other half of the duplex, someone I never really got to know until K-Mart Dude moved away.  Duplex-mate and I went out for a drink in K-Mart Dude's honor.  Duplex-mate always drinks Rolling Rock, but when we got to the local watering hole, they had run out.  He had a Bud instead, and we raised our glasses in a toast to K-Mart Dude.  Then we decided to we needed to invent a drink in his memory.  We called over the bartender, and we told him we were going to invent the Blue Light Special, in honor of a very special person who had ended his run on Earth earlier that day.  We mixed Blue Curacao, Vodka, and Pineapple Juice, dubbed it the K-Mart Dude Blue Light Special, and raised our glasses. 

“To K-Mart Dude.  A guy as special as you deserves a drink as tasty as this.  We love you, and were lucky to have known you.  Here's to you and your life!”

Two minutes later, the bartender came out from the back.  “Look what I found hiding in the back of the cooler—a single Rolling Rock.”

At that moment, we knew K-Mart Dude had heard us, and that he was sending us a drink in return. 

“How like him,” I commented.  “Only K-Mart Dude would decide to return a toast from across spiritual planes.  Even now, he's still making sure everybody else is okay.”

I never did tell him how special he was for me.  K-Mart Dude was the first person to help take a strange place and make it feel like home to me.  He was the first neighbor I met when I moved to this Island, and as it turns out, my first real friend here.  I never realized how much I appreciated having them as my across the street neighbors until they moved off the Island, and I surely never realized how much K-Mart Dude had meant to me, had done for me, until he was gone.  Now, he has literally and truly moved on to a better place, and this place is all the worse for it. 

Here's to you, K-Mart Dude.  You touched many people in your life.  We love you, and we'll miss you!

(Real names have been replaced to shield the individual's privacy.  But K-mart Dude, you know who you are!)

People with Disabilities: Where are Our Avatars?

Where's My Avatar?

I love the Internet.  On the Internet, folks just know you by your handle.  They don't know what you look like or what issues you may have.  Despite this, for several years, there has been a move to personalize the Internet experience.  Many sites and forums now allow you to create an Avatar to be your physical representation online. 

Yahoo, one of the largest Internet communities for decades, has a very intensive avatar-creating application.  Using it, you can create an avatar that has many of your own physical features.  You can adjust the shape of the face, the eye color, and the hairstyle.  You can dress your Avatar in a number of different outfits, and you can add cool accessories like sunglasses, hats, skateboards, and MP3 players.  But is there a single accessibility device amongst the avatar-decorating choices?  No.  My avatar can be riding a skateboard, but she cannot hold a cane!

1Avatar.com is a popular source for forum avatars.  They have 4 pages of avatars in just the “shoes and legs” categories.  But is a single one of these avatars wearing a brace or an orthotic shoe?  Is there a single prosthetic leg amongst the avatar choices?  Unfortunately, no.  Not a leg with a disability amongst the lot.

Try doing a site search for “disabilities” at 1avatar.com.  The result says: “Your search - disabilities - did not match any documents. “  You get the same results searching “cane,” “crutch,” “wheelchair,” or “hearing aid.”  At http://avatars.jurko.net/ you can find x-rated avatars, but a similar search on assistive equipment comes up empty.  Avatarsdb.com also comes up with no matches found when searching disability-related terms.  I can choose from a dozen Simpsons-related avatars though.

Avatarist.com actually has some search results for “cane” – a few sports logos and a picture of the doctor from “House”.  The Second Life store is the ONLY place I could find assistive equipment as accessory options for avatars.  Unfortunately, these have to be purchased through the second life marketplace, and they are more expensive than similar fashion accessories.

Wikipedia's definition of an avatar says:

“An avatar is a computer user's representation of himself/herself or alter ego whether in the form of a three-dimensional model used in computer games, a two-dimensional icon (picture) or a one-dimensional username used on Internet forums and other communities, or a text construct found on early systems such as MUDs.  It is an object representing the user”

My yahoo avatars DO NOT represent me.  I am “The Chick with the Stick.”  For my avatar to truly represent me, I should be able to add a cane.  (You can see my avatar at Laurelnev and at Laurel .)

Too bad all crips are not represented by House, M.D.  Is there a female with a disability on televison?  A happier character with a disability?  Any TV character that might come somewhat close to being "an object representing the user?"

I found another person complaining about the same thing at Yahoo Answers.  Here is the discussion:

Resolved Question: I am disabled and would like my avatar to reflect a truer image of me,how and where can I do this? including wheelchair, amputee and or nice clothing

Best Answer - Chosen by Asker

I have someone added on Messenger who has a wheelchair in their avatar, so I'm sure it's possible somehow.

I don't know about the amputee part though. Generally speaking, avatars that contain imagery that others might be sensitive toward are frowned upon due to the fact that trolls can get them just as easily as anyone else can.

By that reasoning, we shouldn't have goth accessories, the ability to add Asian features, or just about any options that are not plain vanilla.  Can't a troll misuse an X-rated Avatar far worse than he can abuse an avatar with an assistive device?

We are about to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).  Twenty years later, I still cannot have equal rights when it comes to my graphical representation.  The world still assumes that we want to hide our disabilities, whenever possible.  And that, my friends, is not always true.

Many people with disabilities spend more time in the virtual world than we do in “the real world.”  You will find a person with a disability amongst the most valued of contributors on any forum or Internet community you visit.  And other community members are still surprised when they discover their community guru is a crip.  Maybe that's because they've gotten used to our physically perfect avatars, staring at them day after day when they read our posts, avatars we can accessorize in almost any way with the exception of adding the equipment that helps get us through our days. 

Internet Behemoths, please hear our cries.  You have worked hard with us to make your communities accessible to us in every way except one.  You give us the tools to create graphical manifestations of ourselves, yet you leave out the accessories that are most important to our lives.  My avatar looks a lot like me in every way but one: where is my cane?

If you truly want me to feel welcome in your community, please make me feel equal and important.  I am the chick with the stick; my avatar should have a cane as well.