Bowling

I went bowling. Quit laughing, it wasn't that bad. Of course, I discovered a few odd little things to keep an eye on. Like, the breaks that I never use in day-to-day life won't completely hold against me swinging a 12 pound bowling ball without having the chair shift just a little. Which makes it a little harder, especially since it isn't predictable. Then there is the fact that it hurts when you knock the ball against the chair frame on the forward swing. Yeah, that's a vibration that shoots through my arm and leaves me shaking my hand. Why do we shake body parts that sting, it doesn't change anything, but we do it. I also discovered that bowling without a towel on my lap to catch the oil that the ball picks up leaves some interesting marks on my jeans. Did you know they put oil on the lanes and that it matters a lot? I'm learning.

I thought about putting up the bumpers and even using a ramp like the kids use. There wouldn't have been anything wrong with it, but it didn't feel right. I wanted to try and figure this out the full way. Where I got success only when I actually did it "right". And besides, I want to be able to compare and see if I get better over time.

I didn't do bad, but I didn't do good either. For some reason, I was much better with the second ball. Including a number of occasions where I didn't hit a single thing on the first ball, and still managed a spare. Sadly, I couldn't seem to get that to work on the first ball. Oh well, next time!

Someone asked why I was bothering. Well, for starters I'm dating someone who bowls a lot, and this is something we can try together. But there is also an appeal to finding a sport where I can compete. It's no impact, and the only one I have to worry about is me. I miss having a sport where I work to increase my skills. I miss the challenge, and the focus that that kind of activity can give me.

I could skip the weird little stares that I got, but it could be that I would throw my hands up with glee if I hit a single pin.

Are you really?

A lot of places say they are accessible. To give you an idea, last week I attended a function at a location that claimed they were fully accessible. A short list of the failings include: no curb cuts, toilet (obviously new) too low, accessible entrance around back was not marked and staff didn't know where it was, "accessible entrance" path was not clear of snow, "accessible entrance" went by the "shop" and was currently full of boxes, doors too narrow, and very heavy, lift is old and not in good shape (it kept trying to go down even at the bottom)(it also wasn't lit), chairs and tables spaced so that a person with a wheelchair can not get past the entrance to the room and so could not access the stage, registration areas, or food without assistance, servers leaned on wheelchair while serving food. And that's the short list, made without actually doing an accessibility audit. I was there for only a few hours. Later calls to the facility had them continuing to report that they are accessible.

Really, when you report that you are accessible, maybe you should actually think what that means. Rather than just assume you are, why not ask someone who knows.

And if you are planning an event, don't take someone else's word for it that it is accessible. Ask a few questions. Ask about curb cuts, and which entrance to use, elevators, and bathrooms. Always ask about room layout, since I find that to be the most common problem.

But really, stop telling me you're accessible. Did you really think I just wouldn't notice?