Ervin: Invalid Weather


Mike Ervin

I hate travel shows on television. They remind me of all the places I have never gone to and never will go to at this point in my life. I used to think of myself as a worldly cripple, but travel shows tell me how painfully unworldly I really am. I suppose I’m still worldly by cripple standards. I’ve been to Cuba and Mexico and Alaska and Germany and Canada and several times to Milwaukee. Just the Milwaukee part would probably make me worldly by cripple standards.

If I’m going to visit a place nowadays, it has to be during a season when there is perfect “invalid weather.” Another word for invalid weather is Leave it to Beaver weather or sitcom weather. On Leave it to Beaver, it’s always sunny and in the 70s, and the wind is always a soothing zephyr. That’s how the weather is on pretty much all sitcoms and TV shows unless an upcoming plot twist dictates otherwise, like a character is going to slip on ice or get stuck in the snow, or it’s the heartwarming Christmas episode.

You know it’s invalid weather when you see the local invalid out sitting in the local park. The invalid sits stoically in his/her wheelchair with a blanket wrapped around his/her legs, even though it’s sunny and is in the 70s. The invalid’s dutiful nurse sits on the adjacent bench.

I fear I’m slowly but steadily morphing into one of those invalids. I check the weather conditions constantly these days before I go out. Is it less than 65 degrees? Because if it’s any cooler than that and I go too far, my fingers might get cold. And when my fingers get cold they become 10 times more crippled, as if they weren’t crippled enough already. And when my fingers are 10 times more crippled than usual, I have a lot of trouble maneuvering the joystick and driving my chair. And I can’t wear gloves to keep my fingers warm because wearing gloves makes my fingers 20 times more crippled.

Ain’t I a mess? And I check the wind velocity because even if it’s sunny and in the 70s it still might not be safe to venture out because I could get mugged by the wind. In Chicago, where I live, the wind whooshes between the tall buildings and a hefty gust could knock me right over in my chair. And there I am dangling sideways over my armrest, freaking out innocent passersby.

And I check the radar, even if I’m just going out to walk the dogs. It may be sunny and in the 70s with a soothing zephyr wafting about but God forbid I should get blindsided by a sudden cloudburst. If my chair gets too wet, it shorts out and stops moving and there I am stranded in a downpour, freaking out innocent passersby.

The only thing I don’t check is the barometric pressure. Thank God I don’t have to give a crap about barometric pressure yet. I dread reaching the day when my crippledness progresses to the point where even the barometric pressure might keep me indoors. That’s the day I will be bored to a degree far beyond that which I am currently able to fathom. I’ll be so bored that when my electric bill comes I will actually read every word of those glossy advertising pamphlets they stick in the envelope with the bill. Anything to kill time.

Thus, I increasingly find myself observing life as it unfolds through the windows of my comfy, climate-controlled condo or van. Sometimes I feel like one of those damn bubble boys.
But it’s important to me to keep up my image as a worldly cripple, so I’ll have to find a way to fool everybody. What I’ll do is start my own Internet travel show for cripples, starring me visiting famed and exotic destinations. But it will really be me in the living room of my comfy, climate-controlled condo, sitting in front of a green screen. Here I am at the Eiffel Tower! Here I am at the Taj Mahal! Here I am in Milwaukee!


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Jayne Loulos
Jayne Loulos
9 years ago

Mr. Ervin-
You speak truth. It is painful and hilarious all at the same time.