On the Road With Barry – Austin, TX

Day 1

I’m driving this time, which means a rental from the one rental company in Nacogdoches. They’re always very nice to me. And very accommodating. And they always have a vehicle for me. It is, however, almost never the one I asked for. Same price for me because of their understanding of their own, limited inventory. I’ve named my vehicle Moby Dick because it’s ginormous, white, and probably scares the crap out of everyone who sees it coming. I could have named it the Enterprise, because it looks like the famous starship inside. By the time I figure out what all this thing can do, it’ll be time to turn it back in. My son, Jack, helped me figure out how to do some silly stuff like turn on the inside lights, locate the fuel sensor, and tune the radio. He tried to show me how to do some more complicated things, but they didn’t stick. Not his fault, for sure.

On the way to Austin, there’s a Bucee’s in Madisonville. If you haven’t ever stopped at one, you need to do it one time. Just to say that you’ve done it. Any Bucee’s at which you stop is almost always a madhouse. Like someone kicked an enormous anthill and then ordered you to attempt to walk through the maze without stopping or making contact with any of the other ants. Almost all the ants want the exact same items as you, and they all have to use the restroom. If you need gas, there’s usually one hundred (seriously) pumps, but all the ants need gas, too. But only if you do. Luckily, Moby Dick won’t need gas until the end of our voyage together. She probably holds as much gas as the Pequod held whale oil…

Before I get into Austin proper, I stop at one of my favorite BBQ places, Southside Market in Elgin. They have some of the best smoked sausage out there. I highly recommend the jalapeño cheddar sausage. Man! Full of protein and sweet tea, I head on into the capital city of Texas. Luckily, I’m in south Austin, so I can miss a lot of the traffic, but not all of it. Austin is one of those places that’s fun to visit but not in which to stay. The food and entertainment scene is great, but the traffic is enough to make you lose your religion, or gain one if you don’t already have one. It’s something else altogether.

Photo description: Dave uses his white cane as he travels on the sidewalk. He is wearing a plaid shirt and blue jeans. In the background are crepe myrtles.

Day 2

I’m in Austin to see Dave, whom I briefly saw this summer while in Austin for other clients. Dave has had a couple of dogs from another school, but that doesn’t keep him from being eligible for O&M (Orientation and Mobility) services from Leader. You don’t have to have a desire for a dog at all, or want or have one from us. None of that matters. As long as you’re 16 years old, legally blind, and have the motivation to be more independent, you’re eligible for O&M training from Leader. The application is online and completely accessible, and once you’re accepted, we’ll figure out which service delivery model will best serve you. You can come to us, or we can come to you. Unless you live in South Dakota. If you live in South Dakota and you need O&M, you need it at home. I promise. (South Dakota is the only state in the lower 48 to which I have not visited. So I’m kidding, but I’m not kidding.)

As I said before, Dave has had two dogs, one that is still living with Dave. Radar is an older black lab who is officially retired after long years of service. Dave wants another dog but, like a lot of long-time guide dog users, his O&M skills have slipped a bit. I tell this to everyone who wants a guide dog but is not ready for one yet: The skills you learn during O&M training will be incredibly useful to you whether a dog ever shows up in your life or not. Five consecutive days of O&M produces tons of opportunities for repetitions, and repetitions produce confidence in your skills, and confidence produces exploration and expansion of your routes. It’s a good thing. If you need O&M and can’t find it where you live, contact Leader at LeaderDog.org, or call us at 888.777.5332. We can help you get started in the right direction.

Dave gives me a tour of the independent living facility in which he now lives, inside and out, and we decide to find out if the sidewalk goes all the way around the facility. While finding out this information, Dave gets a ton of practice using his cane, and I get a good look at his stamina, balance, and stability. Everything is O&M and O&M is everything. We broke for lunch at El Marcado, a hole in the wall Mexican place. All y’all know this already, I know, but hole in the wall places almost always have the best food. For instance, you know your tamales are going to be good if you buy them out of an old cooler in someone’s trunk in the parking lot of an abandoned 7-11, looking very much like a drug deal. It’s just the way it is. Fueled with enchiladas verde, rice, and refried beans, we next went to Dave’s girlfriend’s home to check out this neighborhood. Radar went with us to lunch and to our next adventure, but she had a really hard time getting into and out of Moby Dick. She actually hurt herself getting out the last time, so Dave has his girlfriend take him home because her vehicle is closer to the ground.

I ate a bison burger from a place called Hopdoddy while watching episode 2 of Ken Burns’ new documentary about the Revolutionary War. I’m so pleased that the hotel has PBS because I don’t get that channel at home. I got to see episode 1 Sunday night after getting in. Episode 1 clearly showed the name of a Ferry in Virginia (present day West Virginia) that my maternal ancestors ran WAY back in the day. Very exciting. I missed it the first time, but Aunt Shirley, family historian and otherwise Renaissance woman, texted me to see if I’d seen it. Luckily, PBS reran the same episode back-to-back, and I saw it that time. Groovy.

Day 3

Dave and I decided to stay on campus this morning, and to leave Radar in his apartment. Radar suffers from separation anxiety and usually barks a lot when Dave isn’t around, but he’s talked to his neighbors and everyone is accepting of the temporary inconvenience so Dave can concentrate on his training. We’re not gone long on either of our morning trips as Dave is building his stamina, so Radar doesn’t have too long to wait. Dave and I talked quite a bit about admission standards at Leader that require you to walk routes of a minimum of a mile at a time, a minimum of three times a week. This doesn’t seem like a lot, but to someone with stamina issues, it’s a lot. Dave is not there yet, and knows it, but is motivated to get there. After a lunch break at Potbelly (love Potbelly. Their BLT with avocado is a fine sandwich.), Dave and I attempt another lap around the facility. We get one good route in, but in attempting another, Dave’s body revolted and said, “No more today, Dave!”. This happens a lot in our program. We walk more in any training day than most people typically walk in a day. At some point, the body tells you it’s had enough, and that’s the perfect time to end the day. This also makes Radar happy.

I stopped at Central Market, a bougie grocery store, on my way home and got some groceries for dinner. A fresh loaf of buttermilk sourdough, some Irish butter, some Scottish tea, and some fresh-ground cinnamon-pecan butter. Yes, you heard me right. Fresh-ground cinnamon-pecan butter. I know it’s fresh-ground because I did it myself. And yes, it’s as good as it sounds. Especially on fresh buttermilk sourdough. Man!

Photo description: Dave uses his white cane as he travels on the sidewalk. He is wearing a red shirt and blue jeans.  There is green grass on both sides of the sidewalk, and the sky behind him is cloudy

Day 4

Are there any drivers out there in blog land? If you’re reading this and you’re a driver, I’d like to ask you a question. If you were out running errands and you saw a person who was using a cane or a dog, obviously visually impaired, who was walking on the sidewalk and approaching the intersection across which you were about to turn left. Now, the blind pedestrian isn’t even at the corner yet, so you can’t even be sure they intend to cross the street. The question is: Do you stop, mid-turn, blocking all on-coming traffic and wave at the blind person to go ahead and cross? If you think about it, logically, you’d think that maybe that’s not the greatest idea, right? You can’t even guarantee that the blind person is gonna cross the street, right? Then, think about waving at the blind person. Waving. At a blind person. And then my favorite, and this is a bonus question: would you honk at them to let them know it’s OK to cross? How does someone with a visual impairment know what the honk means? Does it mean “Stop”? “Go”? To the person who can’t see well enough to travel without a primary mobility aid, how do they know that the honk is even directed at them?

I ask this question because, except for the honking, this happened to Dave and me today. (My clients and I have been honked at too many times to count, but that’ll have to be part of another blog.) We were going to attempt to cross the street in front of us, but we were standing away from the corner, just listening to traffic, trying to figure out the pattern at the intersection. In real simple terms, that’s how blind people cross at light-controlled intersections. They listen for patterns to determine the safest time to cross. Anyway, we’re doing this and I notice that there’s a car on the parallel street that’s not moving like the rest of them. There was a young person behind the wheel, halfway through the oncoming traffic lane, staring at us. I politely waved her on, and she waved back. I waved back and she waved back. I finally mouthed the words “Please go on” to her very slowly and deliberately, hoping she could read lips. Evidently, she could. Now, while it’s very polite, this kind of behavior doesn’t help the person attempting to cross the street. Especially if they’re blind. I intentionally don’t use the term “visually impaired” here because, if you’re driving down the street, you can’t tell how much remaining vision a person has. It’s OK to assume they’re totally blind. I give you all permission to do so. And here’s what I want you all to do: drive normally. Please, for the love of all that’s good in the world, drive like you would normally drive. Stop at the stop line, not 3 car lengths back. Complete that turn and go on about your business. Don’t honk unless there’s someone in front of you NOT going through the light because they’re looking at their dadgummed phone at the intersection. A person who’s listening to traffic to determine the safest crossing needs to hear what is happening at the intersection and if you’re blocking traffic while waiting for them to possibly cross, they won’t know why all the traffic is stopped at a time when they should all be going.

There. I feel better. That was way more of a rant than I expected. I appreciate you all listening.

Photo description: An aluminum tray lined with butcher paper holds barbecued ribs, brisket, sausage, beans, and cole slaw.

Day 5

We got a later-than-normal start to the day because Dave had a physical therapy appointment. I know I say it here all the time, but one of the big benefits of having an O&M specialist come to your home is a good thing because we can schedule around your appointments. Transportation is one of the biggest, if not the biggest, issues for persons who are blind or visually impaired, so I tell everyone to not cancel appointments. Even though Dave’s physical therapy was happening at his home, the concept remains. Keep your appointments and I’ll schedule around them. I DID feel as if I was keeping vacation hours, showing up when I did. It was kinda nice. We got our work done for the morning and broke for lunch. Dave was pretty knackered after PT, so it was a short morning. Lunch was a burger on south Lamar called Wholly Cow. Nice burger, really crispy tater tots. I had bacon and eggs on my burger. You know, for the extra protein. Wholly Cow’s shtick is that all their beef is grass fed and organic. They even have a t-shirt that states “Our cows eat more grass than you smoke”. If you know Austin, this is funny. Another shirt said, “Our cows are vegan so you don’t have to be”. Again, if you know Austin…

Dave and I ran the same route as we did this morning and I timed him. Because I want him to have a route he can run independently. And now, with a time on it, he can measure his progress. I’m not asking him or any other clients to run any races, but usually, the quicker your pace, the straighter you walk. And it’s easier to keep your balance. Think about riding a bike: As long as you keep pedaling, you can even let go of the handlebars and basically go in a straight line. However, if you stop pedaling, you end up weaving and will eventually fall. To all of you out there who might be struggling to walk a straight line, or keep your balance, see if you can quicken your pace, just a little bit. Now, if you quicken your pace, you gotta keep the same pace with your cane. Gotta make sure you’re giving yourself enough braking distance. And don’t try to go too fast first thing. Build up to it. You know how to eat an elephant, right? One bite at a time.

Photo description: A yellow plate holds two green enchiladas, rice and refried beans

Day 6

The rain they’d been telling us about finally came last night as I was watching Episode 4 of The American Revolution. If you missed it on PBS, I’m sure they’ll run it again. If you’re a history person, you’ll love it. And if you’ve seen documentaries by Ken Burns in the past, it’s the same high-quality, well-researched material you’re used to. Highly recommend. I was also paying attention to my alma mater, Stephen F. Austin, finish their regular season at 10-2 and on a 10-game winning streak. They now await the results of Saturday’s games to find out their seeding in the Division II playoffs. Division II has been doing football playoffs the correct way for a LOT longer than Division I, who’s finally starting to get the idea. It’s been a long time since the Lumberjacks were in the playoffs, and even longer since they had a home playoff game. Exciting times in Nacogdoches!

Dave and I did something different at his request. We left his complex and went down the street to the intersection closest to us. He then crossed the street and we came back to his apartment. He’s focused on getting another guide dog and, among other things, having purposeful routes for the dog to walk is a big item on the checklist. He’s got work to do in order to get there, and he’d tell you the same thing. Dave, like a lot of us, including me, likes to try and eat the elephant in one sitting. You just can’t do it. But you can plan for what it will take to get the elephant finally off the table. That’s what we’ve done this week. We’ve mapped out a strategy for Dave to follow to get to where he wants to be. Now all the hard work begins.

One final Austin stop after I leave Dave. Matt’s El Rancho for green enchiladas. I wouldn’t call it a waste of a trip to go to Austin without eating at Matt’s, but it would be one heckuva missed opportunity. They’re as good as I remember, and I leave satisfied, once again. When I was younger and working in the state education system, I came to Austin on a fairly regular basis. Now I only come on a work trip. It’s changed. I used to really like it here, and I still do, but it’s not the same. All things change, right? It’s still a nice place to visit, but I won’t miss it. I WILL miss those green enchiladas, though…