The Lady in her Wheelchair

Life in a wheelchair. This should not happen if it can be avoided!

For about seven years I have noticed a very beautiful lady making her way around the town in her wheelchair. She is always alone. At times she will enter a shop if it is possible for the wheelchair, and she conducts herself quietly and with dignity. What, I wondered, was her story?

Finally, I noticed that she was sitting at a table at a bar having a quiet cup of coffee, so I got up my nerve and spoke to her and asked if I could join her. She was somewhat taken aback by having a black man addressing her and asking to sit at her table. It was probably because she was so stuck for words that she nodded her head in the right way to note agreement, although she may have meant the opposite.

Thus began a conversation that took place more than a year ago, that so captivated me and moved me to the core, that I have simply held it within myself, and thought about it over and over again.

She is a married woman with children, who is sentenced to a wheelchair for the rest of her life because of a young man who drove his car at top speed while drunk.  Her husband recovered completely from his injuries, but she, and the boy driver are confined to wheelchairs until they die. Lately, we have been seeing groups of young people getting together for drinking parties where the idea is to simply get legless. The problem arises when many of these same people get in their cars to drive some place else.

It is such people to whom I am directing my comments.

First, I must confess, with eternal shame, that I have driven my car while under the influence of alcohol. I can only say that I was very lucky not to have caused anyone any harm, or even death. But, that was sheergood luck, because there was absolutely nothing that I did to avoid such an incident.

Many years later, my wife and I came within a hare's breath of ending up as victims of a driver who was reckless. That may have been Karma saying, "what goes around, comes around."

The lady told me of her suffering and described what a typical day is like for her. She admits that she very rarely has a conversation with people because she has a reputation for being stand-offish, simply because she is still learning to live with her life sentence. People passing our table looked on in great curiousity because they never saw her in the company of anyone simply chatting. That she was doing so in the company of a black man was of real interest.

I have seen her several times since when she is always on the move. We speak pleasently and have a very short chat, but the memories come flooding back to remind me that she needs help with everything. She only has her mobility and independence when she is in her motorized chair. She does have something of a life with her husband and her children, but always shared from her chair. All because a young driver had the very bad luck to slam into she and her husband while he was deliberately out of control.

At least the young man is experienceing something similar to her own agony, but I sensed that is very cold comfort. So, I appeal to my readers to think responsibily before operating a vehicle. Tell yourself that you must be free from any influence that will diminish your capabilities. Wait until you arrive home to have a drink. This is as much for your benefit as the general public's.

You know that this advice is good! You know that I am right in what I say! I'm sure you have no quarrel with it, but when you are under pressure with your friends the test will come. The interesting thing is that since I have been disavowing alcohol if I have to drive, not one person has lately tried to convince me to do otherwise. Bartenders say they don't blame me; my wife encourages me, and my friends will not give me a drink if I ask for it. They key is to not drink and drive. If you end up drinking, simply sleep it off in a hotel, or even in the car. Do whatever it takes to avoid starting up your car.

I don't have anybody's injuries or death on my concience, and I thank God that is so, because if it were otherwise, I simply don't know how I could cope. One more thing: the lady is only 45 years of age. The young man is even younger.

Copyright (c)   2012   Eugene Carmichael 

For Whom the Toll Bills

No one is happy to enter through these portals

I drove to Barcelona a very long time ago, and because I encountered so many Toll roads I swore I would never do that again, To me, the authorities had taken the place of the highwayman robber to relieve the traveller of his money.  It seemed that every minor district was determined to extract their little bit of tax. Subsequently, I have always taken the train, except the last trip we took, we went by car because I was assured that if I stuck to the N-roads I would avoid all tolls.

As it happened, we decided to take the AP-7, and to accept the toll until we got to Tarrogona. The charge was 23.95 euros to that point. We then went on the N-340 until Barcelona, and we turned off to get to Alella, where we were hit by a toll of 35 cents each way. We drove all the way back to Valencia using only the national roads, and so never had another toll.

However, people who have to use the roads in the Catalan and Valencia regions every day have had enough. As fed up as I am of being nickel and dimed to death on the toll roads, it never occurred to me to mount any kind of protest. I am ever so polite while handing over my money, but now there is a group who are not having it any more. On certain selected times they will mount a no-payment protest that works like this: You enter a toll road and take the ticket that opens the barrier, but at the exit you simply tell the money taker that you are not going to pay. He/she stares at you and you stare back. They then come around and take down your plate number, while the cars that are forming a long line behind blow their horns. The operator then gives you a green light and you are free to go.

They say that you will receive a fine in the post, but you might decide not to pay it. This is where things get a little grey. The operator will have asked to see you driver's ID, but you will have refused to show it, so whether it was you driving the car or not cannot be proved, unless they start taking your pictures.

I believe that it was the construction company that laid the road who provided the funding for it, and in exchange it is they who have the concession to receive the toll charges  for a specific period of time to recoup their investment. However, I also thought that funding for road maintenance and new road construction was in-built into the price of fuel, but I may be wrong.

As drivers, we know that the roads that we use have to be paid for. What we are asking is for a system that is fair to those who have to be compensated while at the same time not being overly oppressive to us.

Is that too much to ask for?

Copyright (c) 2012   Eugene Carmichael

The Big Drive Photo Gallery

I now know what I will be working for!

OooooooooooH! Dat vas nice!

This is mine! No, mother, it's mine!

Damn!   That was good!!!!!!!!!

Here are some more pictures that capture the spirit of the day.  The looks on their faces says it all.

 Hope you enjoy!

Copyright (c)  2012   Eugene Carmichael

A Fabulous Sunday Drive

Here she goes!

Today, Sunday 13th May, 2012 was a day for a very special drive for my wife, Lorna, and our son, Nathaniel. For what I am assured was a sum of money very well spent, they each took a drive in a Ferrari 360 Spider, and a Porsche 911 Carrera.  The day could not have been more perfect, and they were both looking forward to the event.  They signed up with HCC Sports Car Madrid, who was actually located in Barcelona, and who came down to Valencia to take out the excited drivers.

My wife set off in the Ferrari, with the top down, and my son was in the Porsche, although they left with my son in the lead. It was thought that she would slow him down, but she gave a good accounting of herself. She refused to be intimidated by the big Leaping Horse. Good on her! Midway through their forty kilometre journey they traded places, so she came back in the Porsche.

The Ferrari 360 Spider has a 400 bhp V8 engine, that is mid-mounted, and can get you from standing still to 60 in 4.5 seconds. That is some serious G-forces. It has a six speed gearbox and can cruise around 300 km/h, though she didn't test that out as they drove along normal roads. The original cost of the car was $162,000, but if you can afford that you won't be too daunted by the 11 miles per gallon you get on the highway.

The Porsche is a name that has such cache that it is almost like saying "Private Property". Most of we normal mortals will never get to sit in a Porsche or a Ferrari, let alone to be the one to actually push the starter button and release the clutch. My son, the male model looked as though he was on a job with his flash sunglasses. That car, which is very light on its feet can take you from sitting still to 100 km/h in 4.8 seconds. Better be sure you are on a straightaway the length of an airfield, as you are good to liftoff. The top speed is the same as the Ferrari, at 300 km/h. This means that both of these cars are Formula One worthy.

Interestingly, both cars feature a dancing horse as its logo, or part of the logo. This is because of the affiliation with the city of Stuttgart, Germany, and its Coat of Arms.

There was also a third car available. A bright yellow Lamborghini just sitting there waiting for me to step into it. The problem is that at my age and weight, once I stepped into it, that would be followed by the great drama of trying to extract me from it.

I think I will lose some weight before giving it a try. Meanwhile, I will have to be satisfied with driving my own Jaguar.

Visit http://www.hccsportscars.com/

Copyright (c)  2012   Eugene Carmichael

Lessons Learned

My Black Beauty

I have written in this column about my experiences with Spain's police. I have said that I regard the police here as some of the most professional in the world. I have had no really serious encounters with any of the branches, mostly things like document checks, for which anyone might be stopped. In contrast to the police in the United States of America, who seem to take a great delight in stopping to harrass black successful men, here I have been treated with respect, and I have given respect.

It hasn't been the fact that I have been stopped, it has been all about what happens when I am stopped. I am a black man in Spain, and working against me is the image that so many people have of blacks arriving in small boats without documents or money. Therefore, it seems out of place that a black man could go about his business in peace and confidence. It has taken a learning curve to realise that some of us arrived by airplane, fully documented, as retired independent people.

My latest experience happened as I drove up to a document checkpoint. An officer walked across to my left hand side, from where he would address me, and waited until I arrived at the stop sign at the crossroad. He took one look at me, sitting on the right side; one look at the sticker on my windshield, and then he looked up at the sky as though to say the following: "I know that you are the only black man in Spain who drives a Jaguar XK6 Sovereign with the steering wheel on the right side; we all know that. I know that you are here legally, and that all your documentation is in order. We all know that! I also know that you are not a drug dealer, but in fact you are a retired person who, among other things were a member of The Police Advisory Board in your country, and as well, you were one of three members of The Permanent Police Tribunal, that dealth with matters of Police pay and conditions of service. We all know that because we asked the police in Bermuda to tell us about you.

I am not going to embarrass myself by getting excited that I may have a major arrest here, because that is not going to happen, as it has never happened. So, you are free to go about your business in peace."

Wonderful! It is just wonderful to live in a country and not be one of the usual suspects. That is not to say that I had problems in Bermuda, nor that the police in Bermuda are anything less than professional, because they do a heroic job, especially in these modern times of policing.

It is good to know that I have become known, but, of course that also means I must behave myself!

Copyright (c) 2012   Eugene Carmichael