Damming The Stream Just For Fun

Trying to deal with the untimely death of my good friend, Sarah Pack, I took my parents' digital camera out on the exercise walk. I thought of this particular stream that I once told Sarah a long time ago. She asked me if I had a picture of this particular activity that I did. I told her that I did not take the pictures of that before. Tough luck, I guess.

What activity is this? Well, many years ago, my brother and I biked around the neighborhood, we stumbled upon a park called "Riverside Park". It is one lousy, cheap park for anyone to hit on -- it only has baseball field, basketball courts and tennis courts. That's it. Nothing else.

But if you go to the edge of the park, there is a small forest with an abandoned road down the hill -- many kids zoomed their bicycles down the hill. There are some trails that you can BMX yourselves throughout -- but the chances of you flipping over your bikes are pretty high. It happened to me. At the bottom of the hill lies a small stream that flows into Appomattox River.

This particular unnamed stream is not fast moving stream. In fact, it is pretty small and slow. My brother, Gary and I had this amusing idea -- to dam the brook and see if it will back up the stream as much as can be. Just like the Hoover Dam turning the Colorado River into Lake Mead.

We went back home and brought the equipments necessary to build the dam. But we also organized the sticks and rocks that sits next to us because we were aware that the hearing kids that zoomed by the stream can be vicious. They'd try to attack us -- we'd hurl these weapons back at them in force. And yes, it happened twice or thrice. Anyway, Gary and I discussed about this particular brook, we brought two small wood boards to insert on the ground level to give the sand/dirt some support to push the water back.

We also brought small shovel and two 1-inch width pipe to have water flow into the pipes as we did not want the water to overflow the dam. So we pushed two boards down and quickly pushed dirt on the main stream and hurrily dig some more sand/dirt to build up a little -- it was about 2 feet tall and about 6 feet width.

Voila! It worked. Gary and I looked at the stream that steadily build up against the dam, the vacancy of water flowing into the river. We inserted the pipes -- it worked like charm. Sure enough, we hung out and played around a little but always came back to keep an eye on the build-up of stream against the dam. The dam held very well as the stream went as far as can be.

It was getting darker. Gary and I left for home. Later in the evening, a storm occured. Gary quickly mentioned me about the brook. I said "FINISH GONE!"

Next day, we went back only to see the different stream going in its path -- yes, the dam was gone, I guess the downpour overwhelmed the dam and rushed its way to Appomattox River.

Either way, this project still ranked as one of the fun moments in my childhood life. Call it lame if you want to but it is for me.

Today, I went to the brook to look around -- The brook is still there. Of course, Sarah and I joked about this particular brook. I think it is fitting that I posted these pictures that I took today.

Cheers,

R-

For One, A New Adventure Has Begun!

I posted the entry for Sarah Pack last night as she wanted to share the message to her blogreaders and friends, our friends crisscrossed each other, especially in the blogosphere. Her blogsite can be found at Just Wondering Outloud.

Then after that, Sarah and I chatted each other through the pager until 3 AM, then I told her that it was bedtime for me. We bid each other good night. It turns out that it was the last time that we would have this conversation as she passed away this morning.

Her entry, A Message from Sarah Pack ... was her last testimony to our readers/friends through my blog. Perhaps it was a message for me from her heart.

It was Sarah who gave me the book whom the title eluded me at this moment. It was a book about the interesting tidbits of New York. When I was down, I simply had to page, VP or IM her and we'd go on hours of conversations about anything else.

I know I have a bad habit -- when I get excited or wanted to laugh, I tend to raise my hand right above my ears and lightly slapping on my head in an incessant act -- perhaps 4 or 5 times just enough to express my excitement or laughter. Sarah loved that -- she always smiled so hard when I do that. If she joked, and I did not do that motion, she'd say: "What's wrong? You don't like what I said?" I'd smack her off by slapping on my head just to shut her up. She'd grin.

Sarah was introduced to me by her roommate and my close friend, Kaybee of urban versus rural, three years ago and from there, Sarah and I was pretty close until the end.

Sarah certainly knew me bit that much. Let's say we shared a lot of things with each other. She was great, funny, classy and intelligent. Sarah has certainly helped me in many ways from A to Z -- she was a great listener, storyteller and adviser when I needed one. She certainly was a fan of my blogsite. She would page/IM/email me whether if I plan to update the blog.

Rest in peace, Sarah. I shall miss you very much.

Oh, Sarah, thanks for everything! You did so much for me when I was in New York -- for that, I appreciated this very much. Love you lots.

XOXO,

R-

Claws, Cavaliers, Club & To Subjugate

Deadly Claws! During my college years at Gallaudet, Crystal City Underground Mall was the place where Will, Jake, Dylan and I used to buy the comic books then went to dine at its food court once a month ... all we do is to hang out and make fun of books and so on.

Will once mentioned that he noticed the super-heroes tend to raise their fists in the sky as if they were clawing something as a symbol of "power". From that point, we all made fun of it on a relentless manner. Some of us would joke about manufacturing the sexual super-heroes such as Masturbator! Erectus! Jism! Cummer! Butt-Pirate!

Of course, we howled with heavy fits of laughters. Jake and Will did a lot of imitations of guys who raised their fists in the sky. It was funny.

Then on my graduation day at Gallaudet, Mom & Dad took a picture of me with Will & Jake imitating the claws thing. Not many people would expect to understand why we did it. Too bad I could not get ahold of Will these days and Jake being dead. Ahh, you got it right -- life is so just not fair.

Virginia Goes 1-1 Over The Weekend: Virginia Cavaliers Women's Basketball team opened the season with a 66-53 win over George Washington in the District. The best part is that the Cavaliers never trailed.

But Virginia football team totally sucked against Virginia Tech's Castrated Turkeys, losing at home by 38. I'm so fumed at that score.

Thanksgiving Dinner & Dingo: Went to Richmond Club of the Deaf tonight with my parents for its annual Thanksgiving Dinner & Dingo. Over 50 Deaf locals were in attendance. Among the repeated comments that I had to endure from the elders were:

YOU LOOK LIKE YOUR MOTHER!
YOU SO BIG!

If I could, I'd make sure that they do not exist in the first place. But really, it was good time. I saw Nery and Edward at the event as well! Remember Nery? Yeah, THAT. Of course, I took the picture of Nery and Edward -- holler if you want to see who Nery is. Nery is amazing woman from Cuba. Illiterate but classy.

Somehow, I was engaged in a conversation with one deaf elder woman, Kathy whose told me that his husband kept on showing people of her senior year picture in high school and claimed that the picture is his first wife and that Kathy is his second wife. Actually, the picture is none other than Kathy -- Kathy seemed to be amused and said, "MY HUSBAND ALWAYS DO THAT ALL TIME. ME DODO NOTHING BUT LET HIM TEASE OTHERS THAT ME HIS SECOND WIFE."

Shortly, she mentioned that she is aware of my orientation which surprised me but she said, "I SUPPORT YOU AND RESPECT, YOU OKAY WITH THAT?"

Of course I smiled like Hell. Soon, Nery's husband, Edward interrupted and mentioned about one deaf guy named Ralph, I believe. He went on to explain that Kathy's husband knew who he was. And that in Edward's dramatic body language, he went on to say: "ROBERT DRUNK, ME SAW HIM FALLING DOWN THE STEPS AT RCD OLD BUILDING AFTER HIS WIFE SHOVED ON HIS BACK. HE HAD BLOOD OUT OF HIS EARS -- I HAD TO SCREAM AT BLACK FOLKS OUTSIDE CLUB TO CALL AMBULANCE. 5 DAYS LATER, ROBERT FINISH DEAD. ROBERT WIFE DENY THIS BUT I SAW HER SHOVING HIM!"

The story is not important as it is to observe Edward's body language -- it is so dramatic but so eloquent to see him doing that. Nery interrupted (Nery and Edward always argued!) to tell him that she agreed with his tale.

This is the classic moment of Deaf grassroots in action.

Ahh, I played DINGO, did not win any. The gang from Fredericksburg won it all. Since my legs, arms and back are sore from a heavy workout in the last 6 days, people giving me handshakes or hugs were unbearable but understandable at its best.

Just One More? This picture strikes a chord with me. As you can see Iowa's Necole Tunsil towering above this player in white uniform, you can see Necole using her body and size to intimidate her opponent. Not only that, you can see the thousands of fans watching her intimidating others.

The picture is similar to what I do on my blogsite against the others who chose to attack me -- of course, I shall apply the intimidating factor on anyone else -- if it takes anything to do that, I will. As always.

Cheers,

R-

A Message From Sarah

A dear friend of mine wrote her own blog, Just Wondering Outloud could not update her blogsite because she had been hospitalized for almost two weeks in a row. She paged me to request that I publish an entry for her in order to share the message with her readers.

Cheers,

R-

* * *

Good news!

Finally transferred from NYU Medical Center (Tisch) to Rusk Institute next doors for intense rehab last nite. Today is my 12th day of hospitalization. Well, just looked at the clock and its around 2:30 AM. Make that 13th day. Still can't walk, move or
feel my left leg or lower back.

Can't even tell when I need to piss or poop. But, that will change. Am already able to move waist a bit without too much pain. It was so excruciating and helpless during the few days prior to being brought to the ER via ambulance. Was in neurosurgery unit. They thought I'd need back surgery. Fortunately they later determined I didn't and I eventually transferred to regular neurology unit. Thurs nite, transferred to Rusk for intense inpatient rehab after insurance finally approved!

What I do feel is intense excruciating pain in back and left leg. They finally pinpointed source and location on spine that weakens my left leg and causes such pain in lower back and leg. Just sat for the first time today. Hurts like hell but hey. Gotta start somewhere! One step closer to walking and regaining independence.

Normally, I'm self-conscious and private. But, quite frankly, when u can't walk, move much, go to the bathroom or bathe, u really don't give a shit abt "privacy." U need these precious nurses. They've been great. We joke a lot. Its better to use sarcasm and humor to get thru stuff when u have to.

I admit I've had mental guns and armory tanks ready to shoot when its painful or am being transferred to a gurney for another test, those damn doorway and elevator bumps, few test machines, etc. But kept my personal promise that I wouldn't turn into a bitter bitch.

Pain sucks. Immobility sucks. Incontinence sucks. But, the thought and determination of walking again and being "independent" again is strong in my mind. I look forward to smelling fresh air once again.

And, tomorrow, I will finally have my hair washed for the first time in 2 weeks! Have my shampoo, etc ready for this!

Feel free to visit anytime. They're very flexible with visiting hours for me, so u can visit anytime after 2 PM til nite. They will let folks visit me after 8 pm too.

I'm at Rusk Institute (at NYU Medical Center) which is at 1st Ave and 34th St. Entrance is on 34th st. I don't have the specific mailing or visiting address besides the entrance. You can google it. I'm in Room 119, Bed D.

Feel free to page me at nypack@tmo.blackberry.net.

No internet access, so emails to the pager are well-welcome as well as visits! Visits brighten up my day! Folks seem to visit every few days. If u have free time, come on over! U know what its like being w hearies for so long.

U can even email me Seinfeld type emails, ramblings, or just short or long notes. Anything from deafies are welcome after being in this hearing mouth-flapping hole for nearly 2 weeks.

Thanks for posting this for me, Ridor.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Hugs, Sarah Pack

Mowl Dispels Provost Fernie's Antics

Anthony Mowl, like Donald Tropp, nailed Provost Fernie on couple of points.

I was informed last week that prior to the Town Hall meeting, the professors were encouraged to cancel classes and to attend the Town Hall meeting to discuss about the incidents involving the hotel drama and goalposts.

Guess where they took the meeting at?

Andrew J. Foster Auditorium! Don't know where it is? It used to be Ely Auditorium. That is one small place to host the Town Hall meeting! Needless to say, many were turned away at the door due to the full capacity. It can hold as many as 250 out of 2,000 students. Not to mention the faculty and staff as well.

The meeting did not go as per the idea of "Town Hall meeting" -- it was more of "patronizing everyone else" in the process. A friend confided in me last week.

But am I surprised that Fernie behaved like this?

Really, no.

It is my hope that by the end of IKJ's tenure -- I mean, domain, Fernie shall be left in her obscurity where she can address her "Crisis Management Team" to a group of "yes-sayers" at some no-good school somewhere away from Gallaudet.

Great article, Anthony Mowl!

Cheers,

R-

* * *

Getting Used to the Smell

By Anthony Mowl

Anyone who went to the recent Town Hall meeting will agree with me when they say that an ugly mess has started to spoil. The meeting resulted out of the Homecoming and goalpost fiascos, with students, staff and faculty filling Foster Auditorium to capacity and forcing the overflow to watch the meeting on television.

Over the past two weeks, The Buff and Blue has been aggressively reporting both events that were discussed in the town hall meeting. The cover of the recent issue was a news article of the events of the goalpost incident, and my recent column lashed out at those responsible for the Homecoming embarrassment. Donald Tropp’s editorial was a direct response to Provost Jane Fernandes’ email to the campus community regarding the two events. There were at least two messages sent through those articles. The first is that the overall student body does not condone the actions of a few stupid individuals, and what happened is extremely embarrassing. The second message sent was that there are serious underlying issues that need to be looked at, and maybe there was more to the goalpost than actually meets the eye. Many questions were brought up in what is supposed to be a student forum in The Buff and Blue, questions what students want to see answered.

When I sat down in my seat at the town hall meeting, I finally expected to see productive discussion. After all, teachers were encouraged to cancel classes, and my boss supported my missing work to attend the event. There were several people on stage that opened the meeting with scripted remarks, including the Provost herself, SBG President Mike Higgins, GSA President Carrie Pezzarossi, and several other student leaders. Along with 99 percent of the people who tuned in, I didn’t do a single thing during either incident, but for 25 minutes I sat and listened as each one took their turn lecturing and blasting those involved with the incidents, patronizing everyone in the room as if we didn’t know the actions of a few would reflect the entire Deaf community. After all, wasn’t how those actions reflected us the main reason we turned out for the discussion? Everyone knew that the real issues would be discussed when the floor would be opened, because many students felt strongly enough about the events that they’d ask the hard questions. I only had to be lectured at two more times before Brendan Stern got on stage. His message was simple; while he agrees the actions of those involved were wrong, he believes that the lack of communication at the event escalated a situation that was preventable.

The question was a simple volley on Brendan’s part, a lob that the Provost could have hit down the baseline cleanly. Fernandes knew this question was coming because it was already addressed in The Buff and Blue a week earlier. The administration scripts their every response to serious issues that occur, and luckily the Provost had a few days to think about this one and wasn’t put on the spot. She got out of her seat and walked to the center of the stage ready to deliver her prepared response. At first the Provost said she agreed with what Brendan had said, and she wished DPS and MPD had better training. But she added, communication was NOT the issue and she went on to verbally reprimand Brendan on stage in front of the entire campus community for attempting to sidetrack the discussion and shift our focus away from student behavior to communication issues.

Was it just my eyes or did the Provost really say this? Had the Provost picked up a copy of The Buff and Blue in the last week, or is she illiterate? Did Jane really see the need to sit down the entire campus community, made up almost exclusively of mature adults, for an hour and half lecture as if she were in charge of MSSD again? Halfway through her remarks, I got out of my seat and left the Foster Auditorium in protest, and I wish that every other student who disagreed with the Provost that day had done the same. I refuse to participate in drivel such as the one that was delivered at the Town Hall meeting, and I refused to be treated as if I’m some child running wild in the halls of an institution. What’s done is done. Everyone including myself who sat in that auditorium that day agreed that the entire situation was embarrassing and everyone that auditorium came to hear what the Provost was going to do about it, not what she thought about it. The events of the last few weeks have escalated into a huge situation here at Gallaudet growing worse by the day, and let me just say this much: October 30th was the fault of the students.

The current campus-wide dissent however, I’ll let Jane take credit for.

Paradigm Shift

When I was a student at VSDB, playing at the playground which was and is still located in the center of the campus. Most students referred the playground as "Mall" for some reasons unknown to me, even as of today.

However, in the playground, there are different stuff to play with. Merry-Go-Round, Swings and all these little things that all kids play.

Since I was enrolled at VSDB, I always saw this maintenance guy coming to the "Mall" at 5 PM to lower the Ole Glory flag from the flagpole. The flagpole is located in the midst of the playground.

One day, a student told me that he was told by someone that a flag is not allowed to touch the ground floor because they said so. I was perplexed and asked why. Another student said, "YES! TOUCH FLOOR AND USA WILL BOOM! NO GOOD! MUST NOT TOUCH!"

That logic blew me away. I quickly asked, "WHO TOLD YOU?"

One student pointed at a hearing houseparent. Fuck. They always do that to scare Deaf students into submission with these wacky ideas. I shook my head and dared them to join along with the maintenance guy to help out and trick him by taking the flag and toss it on the floor. The students stared at me with horror and in state of disbelief. They refused to take the dare.

So it was entirely up to me to do the job.

I walked to the flagpole, knowing that the Maintenance guy will come at 5 PM to lower the flag, then fold it neatly and tuck it somewhere else in the maintenance office. Sometimes, he lets the student do it provided that he watched the student closely. The guy was probably in his 70s. Probably a die-hard Patriot during the Cold War.

Yes, it was during the Reagan-Gorbachev Years, approaching the end of Cold War.

Like always, he came at 5 PM. He was probably delighted that a student is interested in doing something like this. The students huddled amongst each other not far away from me, watching me in terror.

As I helped him to lower the flag, the guy took the flag off from the rope and folded it neatly -- when he was done with it, I snatched it and tossed it on the grass.

Suddenly, the Maintenance guy grabbed my right arm and yelled at me in gibberish as I turned to see the students running amok in all directions as if the world is coming to an end. You could see several houseparents being startled by the shrieks of the kids as they ran around to calm them down. I smiled and shoved the guy to make free and ran around the playground -- I was victorious.

I defied the phony beliefs. My blasphemy act proved that no flag will bring down the United States. You can burn, shit, piss and drag it but will it reflect upon the ideals of America? No, not at all. The day continues into the night. Then the morning came. Nobody cared if I tossed it on the floor -- it is just a flag, an object that we attempted to make it too serious, I think.

When people whined about people descerating the US flags, My reaction to this idea: Get a grip. There are better things to whine about, really.

Cheers,

R-

Zachary & Yamka!

I went to Regency Square Mall and observed my sister Lily's two children, Zachary and Yamka playing in a large playland with other children. Zachary is 4 and Yamka will be 2 in March.

It was pleasure to watch them engage in action with hearing children at the playland. Lily is Deaf, Zachary and Yamka are CODAs (Note: They can hear but is Child of Deaf Adults). I was bit concerned about the delayed development of their speech and interaction skills with hearing children. Research has proved that the CODAs tend to pick up the speech much later than the hearing children do because the CODAs communicated with their Deaf parents primarily by sign language.

I'm sure Zachary is doing fine in dealing with other children, he's adapting as can be. My concern is for Yamka. Yamka is the kind of girl that once you turned your head around, she disappeared. You'd have to chase her all over the place. However, Yamka is still young from entering a school, so ... her interaction skills with hearing children are dismal but, she is not even 2.

But ... Zachary and Yamka are tough. They'll be OK. In one incident, I stood and observed Zachary as he looked around to see if nobody is seeing him, then he turned and ran around, used his left arm to knock a guy onto the floor. The floor is very soft -- the kid on the floor was bit stunned but giggled with a huge smile on his face. Zachary realized that I saw his action -- I told him that it is not nice. He shrugged. Tough kid, that kid will beat up on anyone else. Good for him, but not now.

As for Yamka, she was sitting next to the soft bench as one hispanic girl -- probably 4 or 5 years old but is bit taller for her age -- was standing on the bench, trying to leap over Yamka's head. Yamka looked upwards and shook her head, she was trying to say NO to that girl who attempted to leap over her head. Instincts probably played a role in this as Yamka could not get this girl to listen, Yamka shoved this girl's right leg as she lost the balance and fell on the floor.

As you can see, these kids are going to be tough. And they are not even 5. Lily's hands are going to be full in years to come.

I rather to have a rough-nosed, experienced, tolerant and challenging nephew and niece than anything else, really.

Cheers,

R-