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'ONE STATION, MANY VOICES!

Rogi Riverstone on KUNM

040804-Scooter

KUNM Archives

Transcript

Way up in the most isolated, primordial "hollers" of the Appalachian Mountains, people live in isolation, by their own resources and determination. Those are my "kin:" "relations," for you flatlanders.

They resort, sometimes, to chaining developmentally disabled family members to porches and inside woodsheds. They're not being cruel, by their standards. They're just trying to care for their own, while they grub another day's supper, in an area so remote that there are no other resources or options.

But they often mistake able-minded relations, those with cerebral palsy or hearing and speech disabilities, for example, as mentally incompetent. Imagine spending your days chained to the porch of ignorant people who don't understand who you are.

Well, I refuse to be chained to the porch. I refuse to be the family -- or community -- embarrassment, shame or problem.

So, you're ashamed to be seen with me, huh?

I know it's not my appearance; I dress quite nicely, thank you, from the discards in your trash receptacles.

Perhaps it's my broken, dying teeth, for which I can't get dental care in this town? I try to not smile or laugh too broadly in public, though, so that couldn't be it.

I know what it is: it's my scooter! You think I'm "crazy!" Or -- and this is even worse -- you know I'm not crazy, but you're worried "What Will Other People Think."

They'll think you're with a homeless bag lady? They'll think you're with a mental patient? How would that bring shame to you?

Does it even matter to you that you're really with an artist, an environmentalist and a low-income disabled woman who's just trying to retain her mobility?

I shouldn't have to explain myself to anybody; I have a right to independence and self-expression, and shouldn't have to answer to off-the-wrack pod people herds, with whom I make an effort not to associate anyway.

But you say you want to represent me in government. You say you want to restore my country to the land of the free and the home of the brave.

So, seeing as how I'm both brave and free, I'll tell you about my scooter.

The scooter was cheap: a toy, sold on the Internet. It's easy for me to repair.

The trailer I fashioned from a jogging stroller for twins was even cheaper at a thrift store.

I get over ninety miles per gallon with those "toys."

I covered it with Mylar garlands and old ISP promotional CDs because they're weather resistant. They reflect sunlight, keeping my groceries –and my dog, when I haul him – cooler. They also make me more visible to traffic.

The hummingbird pinwheel is prettier than an ugly, old, florescent flag for visibility.

The toys and decorations are not just for fun; they're a political statement.

I find the junk you buy at the big box stores in your trash barrels, a few months after you purchase them. Some still have the price tags on them; some are still in their original packaging.

You buy toxic, petroleum based gizmos and gadgets. Nonunion, outsourced, pollution-spewing factories manufacture them. They're worthless and destructive to your children's futures. They're impulse items and a waste of your so-called "disposable" income. You buy them as jokes, gifts and attempts to cheer up your depressing, mundane lives with a little color and joy.

I'd rather spend that money on flower seeds, social justice nonprofits and good walking shoes, but that's just me.

Thousands of years ago, it's said, another social activist laid it down. This guy didn't shun the diseased, the social pariahs, and the corrupt. He actually ate with them, walked with them, healed them and touched them.

And this "crazy" guy admonished his followers with the following:

"Whatsoever you do unto the least of these, that you do also unto me."

Forget the rhetoric, the platforms, the manifestos, the theories;

I see how you really treat people you consider your inferiors. I see how you treat me.

If more people drove scooters, maybe we wouldn't be killing our kids and Iraqi kids for oil. Maybe we'd have more green space, and less asphalt. Maybe more low-income and disabled people would participate more fully in the community.

If you're ashamed to be seen with me, I feel sorry for you.