Gurney to Wheelchair to Walker to Cane
Dreamed 2011/10/10 by Wayan
A dinner for music students at a college. Long tables and benches. My friend Bob is there, far off. He's a mentor for a lot of wannabe musicians. Surprising, since he doesn't play.
I sit next to a short white girl with brown bangs and pixie ears. Cute. In tank top and shorts, but with a huge yellow rain slicker beside her. She says "I know your music!" Bob endorsed me and she knows and trusts him. Also, one of her music classes showed a video of me performing live--she liked my originality. I didn't even know anyone had shot a video of me.
I ask "What music do you do?" She's nonplussed, vague. "Oh... ballads, jazz, love songs, pop..." mixing subjects and styles.
We start talking of goals. I blurt out (surprising myself) "This semester, my goal's to find other players and singers who can handle my complex stuff. I can't--I'm a clumsy instrumentalist." Talk about how far this goes--I personify objects and assume they're out to get me.
In fact we're in a real-life example right now. We're sitting and eating in my car, here in the hospital cafeteria. It slowly shrinks until we're sitting on a hospital gurney, as if we're surgery patients.
I try to park the gurney in a corner so we don't block the hall, but as I back up the gurney I ding the corridor wall. Out drops a plasterchunk big as my fist. Oops! Clumsy! Or the perversity of things. I shrink the gurney further, into a wheelchair, then to a wheeled walker, and fold it up and lean it against a table. There's a cane too. Topple it. Personify it as it falls. The cane is perversely falling, out to get me...
Why do I indulge this paranoid farce? I'm not THAT disabled, or even that clumsy--just slow to learn arbitrary codes like typing and piano, where the keys aren't logically arranged. Lots of people are. It's only a disability if you're musically ambitious. I can't dance like Fred Astaire, either, does that mean I'm a cripple, or that the universe is sabotaging me?
Here I am, standing on my own... gurney to wheelchair to walker to cane to nothing. And no Jesus in sight! Just time and practice.
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