Move Over David Beckham Redux and watch out Lebron James!

Well, it looks like the Original Soccer Star has been replaced with this new up and coming star.....

That's right, it's David Beckham 2.0!

I wish had more pictures but unfortunately, Dodie needed  A LOT of coaxing from the coaches.  He's young and it was his first time but when it was over he said to me, "Mo' sacka mama?"

Dante was 3 1/2 when he played Tiny Tots Soccer at the YMCA. Dorian is not yet 3.


Dante, on the other hand joined the youth basketball league at the Y and is doing awesome.

I'm just wondering where my babies went.  (And when I will ever have the time to focus on my blog again).

Standing Room Only

If you follow this blog or any other web space I happen to occupy, then you know that I had spinal surgery back in May 2012 and the road to recovery has been a long and difficult one. I haven't blogged about a lot of what I am dealing with as far as mobility, pain, weight issues, etc. because I think it would just be one complaint after another and bore everyone to death. Suffice it to say, I have a tough time some days while others I feel like I could ballet dance across the world. So it wasn't without some trepidation that I booked our yearly Disney trip, not entirely sure if I was going to be able to hack it.

The fact of the matter is that I have trouble walking if I'm not leaning on something. A shopping cart is usually my best friend and sometimes I rely on a cane.  I've been exercising at the gym four days a week but I think I'm doing more harm than good and have backed off. Standing still is agony and the pain shoots down my legs after about five minutes so the prospect of walking around Disney and then standing on a line for an hour made me want to cry.
"So why go to Disney" I can hear some of you saying.  And I just have to answer that 1. We go every year and it's our family vacation and 2. I'm not putting my life on hold simply because something hurts.  I'll work it out.
I did a whole mess of research before embarking on our vacation and found that along with wheelchairs, I could also rent an ECV motorized scooter at the parks for a whopping $50 A DAY. (We were there 5 days, do the math).  So I decided to swallow my pride and rent a scooter.  Walking from our hotel room to the restaurant had put me in tears so I knew I had no other option. And so, it began.

Scooter, Magic Kingdom, Day 1:

When I walked up to the ECV rental kiosk, I was filling out the paperwork for the scooter and happened to glance over at other folks renting the same thing. Some of the people were elderly folks with canes, adults in casts, or people with crutches, but a majority of the people renting them were these ENORMOUSLY fat people who just didn't feel like walking.  And before anyone tells me I'm "judging", I'm not.  I flat out heard at least five people on scooters say something to the effect of "so glad I rented this, I ain't walkin through this damn park".  Ok fine you don't want to walk, but ECVs are in limited quantity (unlike wheelchairs which they have millions of) and by "not wantin' to walk this bitch", you're essentially making someone who actually needs a scooter, have to put their name on a waiting list and then struggle until their name is called.  So I got on my scooter and I instantly felt like an idiot.  Then I began second guessing myself. "Do I need it?", "Should I just walk?" "Do I look like Kendra Krinklesac?"

 

So I proceeded to enter the park with Randy pushing the double stroller next to me and that's when all hell broke loose.  People just don't look or care that someone is on a scooter and I was bumped and bashed and eye rolled at more than I could count, but the worst parts were the comments.  Because I am not visibly "disabled" people assumed I was just ridin' dirty and the things that came out of some of their mouths was certainly NOT what the "Happiest Place on Earth" would deem appropriate.  "You're one fat, lazy bitch", "Looks like they'll give any fat fuck a scooter here", "Wow could you be any lazier?", "Hey instead of dyeing your hair freakish colors why not hit the gym?", and so on and so forth.  It was horrible and it certainly did not make the start of my vacation pleasant.  So I decided to return my scooter and go with just pure adrenaline and use the stroller as my leverage.  But, I knew I wasn't going to be able to handle standing on long lines so I opted to get the Guest Assistance Card (something I had researched and heard about prior) which would not automatically move me to the front of a line for an attraction, but would allow me Fast Pass entry to the rides that offered it.  Most people who use the GAC are folks who have back problems, joint issues or children with special needs that don't require a wheelchair.  I brought my medical records in the event that I was going to use the GAC but it turns out that I didn't need them because by law, Disney is not allowed to ask why you are asking for the pass.  Bad move, Disney.

As it turns out, the line for the GAC was longer than the line for Pirates of the Caribbean.  Every Tom, Dick, and Harry was on line asking for one of these cards. Some folks visibly needed one (like the family with the "Make A Wish" package and their little boy), others didn't, but because I wasn't walking around with a hole cut in the back of my shirt showing off my neat scar, I naively assumed that they had back and joint issues as well.  So I got my card and they wrote my name on it and how many people were in my party and stamped it with the "use alternate entrance" notation and we were on our way.

Let me say that the GAC, for people who really need it, is a wonderful wonderful wonderful thing.  If lines were more than 20 minutes long, I used mine.  I didn't want to abuse it so I gave myself that 20 minute window to stand.  As it was, 20 minutes was ROUGH for me to stand in line for, but I did it because I saw so many people abusing the GAC that I felt bad.  For example, Dante and I went to the line for Soarin' at Epcot.  The Stand-by line was 90 minutes long. There was no way I could do it. The Fast Pass was 5 minutes. I showed my card, they asked my name and how many people, and we were whisked through.  In front of us though, were four girls, the oldest was twelve.  They had a GAC pass and were put through as well.  All four of them SPRINTED through the maze of tunnels leading to the ride, then proceeded to sit on the floor, gossip, and put on makeup while waiting the whopping 5 minutes.  It took me TEN MINUTES to walk to the ride from the entrance by taking baby steps and holding on to the railing.  We were letting old ladies with canes pass me.  Yet, these little girls had a GAC and ran the Olympics to get to the ride?

 

I saw so many more instances of the GAC being used by people who didn't really need it that I really think Disney needs to change its policy on getting one.  I don't mean that they should have to ask for a full medical history, but at least a doctor's note explaining why you should get one or what problems you have.  We would not have been able to do most of the rides at the parks had we not had the GAC because it was busier than normal (dance competitions, twirling competitions, soccer teams, and Kelly and Micheal were taping their show there) as I would not have been able to stand on line for that long.  In some instances where the Fast Pass or alternate entry was not available, I was allowed to sit and wait for Randy and the kids to catch up.  I thought that was fair.  

Because the Guest Assistance Card is a "Disney secret" that some people use to their advantage, I did get some inquisitive looks from Disney cast members when giving them my pass. No one was ever rude to me, but you could tell that sometimes they were saying to themselves "Oh great, another one of these" when I showed it to them.  Their doubts were soon allayed, though, when they saw that it took me 6 years to get from point A to point B and I needed to lean on walls in between.  Nevermind getting into the ride itself with the whole stepping down into the seat thing taking me another 5 years.

I also found that in talking to other folks who had a GAC card, that they would instantly get defensive with me and start rattling off their many ailments.  While my initial motive in bringing it up in conversation was to find out if they had been getting any slack from people calling them "line cutters" (since I had), they thought I was questioning them as to their validity of owning one.  Which I wasn't, but in thinking back on it, why would they get so defensive if they weren't hiding anything? But then again, I did the same when someone would comment on mine.  One man even went so far as to lift his shirt up and show me all of his bullet holes and scars from his surgeries.  I was like, thanks dude, I believe you.

I never did use a scooter again on our trip and we did a lot of walking.  The double stroller was very helpful in aiding my walking but I was in constant pain (thankfully I remembered to pack my muscle relaxants for the end of the day), but the added privilege (and it really should be a privilege and not a "perk") of having the Guest Assistance Card made my experience at Disney so much more bearable and manageable.  I just wish people had more integrity to not abuse such a necessity for people who really need it. 

By far, the "best" example of the "disability abuse" that we saw had to be the woman in a scooter on our bus ride back to the hotel one night.  She was in a rented ECV and used the handicapped ramp to board the bus.  In order to do this, the bus driver has to lower the bus, then open the special doors, lower the ramp, close a section of the bus and strap the scooter (along with the rider) into a special set of buckles and belts to keep the ECV and its rider safe.  This takes about 6 minutes to do. While he was doing this for her, she, in a very frail voice, thanked everyone for their patience and apologized that we had to wait.  Everyone on the bus, of course, was accommodating and kind. I mean, this woman is disabled. What are we going to do, yell at her because we want to get back to the hotel now?  Of course not.  So she gets strapped in and the bus gets to her stop (we were getting off there too) and the process of letting her off begins again.  And again, she in her frail voice apologizes for the delay then scoots off on her ECV into the building.  About 30 minutes later, we are sitting at the same bus stop waiting for the bus to take us to our hotel room (we were at the resort restaurant) and as it pulls up, we see a woman and child SPRINT to catch the bus.  I mean, full on running at full speed.  They get to the bus and then start jumping around like crazy.  Randy turns to me and says, "Look at the lady". And I say, "Yea so?" and he says, "Look closely at her".  Wouldn't you know it.  It was the frail "disabled" woman from the bus ride earlier.

Video Killed......No One

Hi.

My name is Alessia.

And I play violent video games.

Now according to recent pundits and talking heads, that statement alone should have you running away from me screaming in terror and ducking for cover.  According to these same pundits and talking heads, the statement above also relegates me to being an insane, mentally unstable person, who loves guns and killing children. 

Let me just start off by saying that I hate guns. I'm terrified of them, which I think is the ACTUAL point of a gun.  It can end your life in a fraction of a second. And I'm pretty happy being that whole "alive" thing, so I make it a point to stay as far away from real guns as possible.  (Much to my husband's dismay). 

Notice I said "real guns".

Now on the flip side, you get me the BFG 9000 (that stands for Big Fucking Gun in the DOOM video game series) and I will gladly blast everything that has a pulse within 100 feet of me.  Yes, even cute puppies and kitties.

Why, you say?  BECAUSE IT"S NOT FUCKING REAL. That's why.

I am so fracking tired of the folks that come out after a tragedy such as Newton or Aurora and blame the "violent video game industry" for these horrific acts.  Video games are not the cause. Mental illness is the cause.  People who can't discern reality from fantasy are mentally ill, they don't become mass murders because they mastered the eviscerating finishing moves in Mortal Kombat.  (Oh, and FYI, I've played MK since its inception in 1992 and NEVER ONCE have I ripped anyone's spine out, launched harpoons from my face, or turned anyone into ice only to smash them to bits and disintegrate them.)  A mentally ill person will discern violence from anything.  Wasn't it David Berkowitz, the Son of Sam killer, who claimed his neighbor's German Shepherd was talking to him and giving him orders to kill?  Did anyone blame Pong for his violent crimes?  Was slapping a 16 bit ball across a screen the cause for his wrath?  Was Pong even invented when the Son of Sam was shooting people at random?  (Let me check: YES! Pong was developed in 1972, Berkowitz acted out in 1977). So there!  Did anyone blame the violent video game Pong for the Son of Sam's crimes?!?!

No.  They blamed his mental illness. 

Are we getting dumber or more paranoid?  Why can't people acknowledge that crazy people exist and need help, rather than try to point the finger at what they think is the cause.  In the 80's it was heavy metal that was blamed.  Remember when Judas Priest was on trial because some idiot kids decided to commit suicide and one of them "missed" and ended up blowing half his face off and surviving?  Yes, it was totally Judas Priest's fault for creating such eeeevil hits like "Turbo Lover" and "Hell Bent for Leather".  Hell, if anything, the gay undertones should have made anyone want to strap on some boots and a corset and find the nearest fetish party, but no Cletus shoots his face off and Judas Priest is blamed. 

 

 

What about the Dungeons and Dragons scare that had parents confiscating 20-sided dice and pewter wizards from the hands of their innocent children for fear that "witchcraft and wizardry" would lead them to "teh devilz" and suicide? 

The fact of the matter is, I come from a generation that grew up with video games. As a child, I held the Atari 2600 and the Colecovision in my little hands and jumped over crocodiles, swung from vines, and dodged cobras in Pitfall. I jumped barrels and avoided fireballs all in the hopes of saving the princess from a fierce gorilla in Donkey Kong.  I strutted about as I defeated Zaxxon, and helped save the world from evil terrorists (with my brother, of course) as freedom fighting Contras.  And naturally, I've evolved as my game systems evolved.  I went on quests for Zelda, I fought vampires and Dracula in the far off land of Castlevania, and I landed on the planet Zebes and defeated the Queen Metroid. 

And then, I got my first taste of blood. Zombie blood, that is, when I first visited Raccoon City and stocked up on ammo, honing my talent for the "head-shot" and making sure I was always within an arm's length from danger.  War games ensued (though I don't much care for them because I suck at first-person shooters), followed by hand-to-hand combat with worthy opponents who would dismember me (or I them) at the drop of a hat (or command by Shang Tsung).



On and on, the list is endless of the games I have played and creatures I have killed.  Whether human, alien, robot, ghost, undead, vampire, zombie, dog, cat, monster, or any other living creature, I have killed it.  Sometimes, the kills are clean and simple. Other times, brutal and gory.  Sometimes, I've kicked people off of cliffs, beaten them to death with a baseball bat, run over them in my Camaro, or stolen their money and fled the police.  I executed a hit for a Mob Boss once and then beat up a hooker just because I felt like it.  One time, I even killed my partner.

Sounds terrible doesn't it?  I'm a violent person, aren't I?  I'm sick in the head, right?

Not quite. 

You see, there's something sane people know and understand that mentally ill people don't.  Reality is not fantasy and vice versa.  I would NEVER in a million years do any of the things in video games in the real world because DUH how stupid do you have to be?  Ok Ok Ok, I admit, that if the zombie apocalypse were to visit my actual front door, I would shoot them in the head, but that's just a big "if" and not likely to happen (famous last words, right?)

And yes, I will fully concede that sometimes people use violent video games as an excuse for their behavior. Case in point, the Black Hawk pilots who used civilians as target practice and who could be heard on their coms laughing and joking about how it was just like "Call of Duty" and "Medal of Honor".  I would post the video here, but it really is too disturbing. Google it. You'll see.  Even in this case, I don't blame violent video games for their behavior.  They're soldiers in a war.  You can't tell me that a mental break is out of the questions. And in no way am I excusing their behavior of claiming they were insane, but psych evals of our soldiers need to be improved as well as the length of their tours and re-ups, but that's a whole other blog post all together.

So what have I been trying to express in this disjointed blog?  Basically, to the talking heads and pundits, quit placing blame where it isn't merited.  Violent video games are not the reason why people shoot up schools and movie theaters. A failed mental health system is.  A failure to diagnose, to care for, and to keep caring for people who have severe mental issues is to blame.  Not Duck Hunt, or Mario Kart, or Final Fantasy, or Resident Evil.  If that were true a HUGE part of Gen X'ers would be rampaging killing machines.  Instead, we're 30-something year old moms and dads who revel in the 30 minutes they get after bedtime to hold that Xbox/Playstation/Wii controller and save the world.

The God Who Wasn't There.....

*Warning: This is going to be a rant. It's probably not going to be cohesive or grammatically correct. It's probably going to be offensive and have a lot of curse words.  I realize that my posts are few and far between lately, and with the holidays approaching they should be more lighthearted and focused on the kids, but I'm mad as hell right now and I'm about to let loose. So. You've been warned.*


I don't know how anyone can call themselves an intelligent human being and believe in any god.  There, I said it.  I know I have friends who are religious. I know that they are intelligent. But I think that when it comes to the whole "god" thing, their brain is being affected by something that's making them stupid. 

Obviously my comments are stemming from the recent tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut, where the lives of 26 people (20 OF THE CHILDREN) were cut short by a mentally ill person with guns. 

I keep seeing posts of "angels being called home" and "god is hugging those babies now" or "prayers for the family".  Seriously?  Shut the fuck up.  Shut up with that idiotic, pedantic, bullshit.  There are no "angels", there is no "hugging" and what the fuck is praying going to do now?  You think maybe if this Great and Powerful Oz, oops I mean, God, DID exist that he could have PREVENTED this disgusting event from happening?  Maybe jam a gun?  Maybe stall the car the shooter was driving?  Better yet, maybe NOT let the shooter be mentally ill with access to an arsenal of weapons?  But no, for some reason, the religious will rationalize that "Satan" was at work.  Really?  Well then this would logically mean that "God" is weaker than "Satan".  Or that they're working together?  Or that they're one in the same.  Or better yet, THEY"RE BOTH NOT FUCKING REAL! 

How come "God" is always there when Bubba wins the lottery or when Cletus wins on the Price is Right, but strangely absent say, when a fucking psycho shoots up a school? When children are hacked to pieces with machetes for "being witches"?  When terrorists fly planes into buildings? Oh wait, "God" WAS there on September 11th, except his name was "Allah" and he was granting the wishes of Mohammed Atta, Osama Bin Laden, and the other 12 terrorists. 

Don't even get me started on the fucking asshats who are blaming this tragedy on the fact that "God" was "removed from school".  Again, shut the fuck up.  Shut your idiotic piece of shit mouth.  You're in the same group of assholes that is now going to blame "teh gayz" for this tragedy.  You're a Westboro Baptist fuckface without the sign. 

And now I'm reading all these news pieces about church vigils and prayer rallies.  Really?  FUCKING REALLY?!?!  You're going to go to CHURCH and pray to your little sky friend, AFTER he allowed this thing to happen.  You're going to subjugate yourself to this (and I'm speaking as though "god" were real) misogynistic, baby killing, genocidal, slave endorsing, egomaniac, who gets his rocks off on killing kids (for the Bible tells me so!) and then you're going to look to "him" for answers.  Are you fucking mental?!?!?!

So let's approach it from this angle.  Either "God" is real or he isn't.  Simple.  BUT!  If he is real, then one must concede that he allows murder, rape, disease, cruelty, injustice, and all these horrible things.  If he doesn't exist (the more reasonable option), then one can be satisfied in the knowledge that LIFE is unfair, that human beings can really be horrible to each other, and that this fraction of a second we have on this planet is fleeting, unstable, but also worth a million trillion zillion lifetimes.

"But Alessia, God gave us free will! He can't step in!".  Oh really?  So he can't step in when children are being murdered, but he CAN step in when you get a promotion at work?  He can't step in when a woman is being raped but CAN step in when Extreme Makeover renovates your house?  And speaking of the woman being raped, WHOSE "free will" is being exercised here?  The rapist?

Oh and I LOVE the idiots on the message boards blaming atheists for this tragedy.  According to one genius on HuffPo, responding to my comment about being confused as to why people flock to church, I have no capacity for love and compassion and I have no concept of helping others because I don't go to church.  Yep, absolutely right (eye roll). I *totally* need to go to church to know what love and compassion are. That love and compassion sure overflows for gays and lesbians, for nontheists, and the like. Going to church to learn about love and compassion is like going to a fucking steakhouse for a vegan meal.

In the days following this tragedy we are going to face a barrage of images of fresh-faced children whose lives ended violently and tragically.  We are going to see images of distraught parents whose own lives, in a sense, ended yesterday.  And I'm going to have to listen to the same bullshit over and over again about "god bless them" and "prayers for them".  I'm going to have to have some asshole of a parent in an interview on TV claim that "by the grace of god", THEIR CHILD SURVIVED.  That, by far, is the most disgusting thing anyone can say.  "God" saved your kid but not the others. How nice for you, you smug piece of shit.  What kind of bullshit self-rationalization is that?  Your kid lived because "god" loved him more?  Because you prayed harder?  Because that kid talked back to his mom?


I was sobbing yesterday but today I am mad as hell.  I'm pissed that a mentally ill person had access to weapons. I'm pissed that this person thought it necessary to kill anyone.  Just kill yourself and be done with it, why take out a school?  I am mad as hell that people look to the sky for answers instead of focusing on REAL solutions to REAL problems.  The mental health system failed this man.  It failed and continues to fail on so many levels.  We have soldiers who fight for this country coming home and murder-suiciding their entire families because they're not getting the care they deserve.  We have disgruntled workers shooting up malls because they got laid off.

Let's ignore all that and pray for answers.  Yes, let's just do that.