The movie Blindness premiered last Friday, starring Julianne Moore and Mark Ruffalo. It’s based on the 1995 novel by Nobel Prize-winner Jose Saramago — I listened to the audio version of the book years ago, when it was first publishsed.

The book was praised for its use of blindness as a metaphor — a bunch of people in one city suddenly go blind, and the government quarantines them, afraid the blindness is contagious. Anyone trying to escape is killed immediately.

The prisoners are supposed to be given food and supplies, but that turns out to be an empty promise. It’s a survival story, kind of like the TV show lost. And they really are. Lost, I mean. Example: when the blind inmates can’t find their way to the bathrooms, they simply relieve themselves on the floor or in their own beds. Not exactly a positive look at what happens to people who lose their sight!

And so, when Blindness premiered as a movie last Friday, blind activists came out to protest. Here’s a description from an Associated Press story:

For Marc Maurer, who’s blind, such a scenario – as shown in the movie “Blindness” – is not a clever allegory for a breakdown in society. Instead, it’s an offensive and chilling depiction that Maurer fears could undermine efforts to integrate blind people into the mainstream.

“The movie portrays blind people as monsters, and I believe it to be a lie,” said Maurer, president of the Baltimore-based National Federation of the Blind.
“Blindness doesn’t turn decent people into monsters.”

I chose to stay home rather than join the protest — I explain why in an essay called Blindness over Blindness. I recorded the essay for Chicago Public Radio early last week, and it aired while I was in Little Rock. If you missed it (like I did!) you can listen to the essay online — once you get to the Chicago Public Radio page, there’s a little button thing there you have to click to play, I think it either says “download” or pop out,” can’t remember now. And in the end, maybe it’s not worth all that trouble to hear the essay — Blindness got bad reviews from movie critics. Unlike the newly-blind in the film, few movie-goers are falling over themselves to live the metaphor.

Cody uses a screen reader like mine. He interviewed me in Little Rock for a high school project.

A wonderful thing happened after the presentation Hanni and I gave at the William J. Clinton Presidential Library, yesterday.

Actually, a lot of wonderful things have been happening since Hanni and I arrived in Little Rock on Wednesday. We’re here thanks to a grant put together by two powerhouse women: Bronwyn Palmer works with the State of Arkansas Post-school Outcome Intervention for Special Education, and Kathleen Pate is the Education Specialist at the Clinton Presidential Library and Museum.

Since we arrived Wednesday night, Hanni and I have been talking to groups of teachers, parents and schoolkids. Our biggest event was yesterday, when the kids from the Arkansas School for the Blind paired up with the kids from Martin Luther King, Jr. Elementary School to hear my presentation at the Clinton Library. After my talk, the kids lined up to get a copy of Safe & Sound. Bronwyn had ordered copies of Safe & Sound in print/Braille, too, from Seedlings for the kids from Arkansas School for the Blind. In the print/Braille version, Braille words appear directly under the printed words, and there are no illustrations. It was a thrill to sign my name in Braille for those kids. Two of them – Taylor and Chevy – sat at my side for a while, helping me rubber stamp Hanni’s paw into each copy.

There were almost 250 kids there from MLK, Jr. Elementary, and towards the end of the signing, Bronwyn realized we were running out of print copies. She did have a number of Braille copies left, though, so she made an announcement. “Everyone left in line can make a decision – you can have a print copy with pictures, or a print copy with Braille.”

Wow. This was a tough one. The sighted kids knew the illustrations are pretty, but they’d seen the kids from the School for the Blind reading Braille, and they thought that was cool. I sensed these kids standing on one leg, then on the other, trying to decide. And then, one by one, the Braille copies were slapped on the table for me to sign. Now, not every sighted kid towards the end of the line chose Braille, but many, many of them did.

It was awesome.

I’d write more but have to get ready now for an outdoor festival to culminate our time in Little Rock. I really like it here. Hanni does, too. Little Rock rocks!

White Sox fans who found out Hanni was coming with me to Monday’s game against the Tigers, and then again to last night’s game against the Twins, all told me to make sure she brought home a winner.

And she did it. Figuratively, and literally. Monday’s do-or-die game against the Tigers had a three-hour rain delay, I had to have someone from guest services accompany us outside towards the end of the three hours so Hanni could “empty” before the game started. And, good girl that she is, She did it. Right outside White Sox Park.

I have never, ever endured such a long rain delay Before, but…wow! Was it worth it! A grand slam Monday meant we beat the Tigers and could play the game last night against the Minnesota Twins. Mike couldn’t join us Monday afternoon because he had
to work, and tickets for the Tuesday night game against the Twins sold out in one hour. Hanni to the rescue again! I called the park yesterday morning, asked if they still had any handicapped seating available (Hanni needs the leg room, of course! and…voila! Mike was able to come with us last night, too, along with two other friends.

Thank you, Hanni.. Last night’s do-or-die game against the Twins was one of the best baseball games I’ve ever been to. Two reasons why: first, the pitchers from the Sox and the Twins each pitched outstanding games, real nail biters. That meant the fans were on each & every pitch, so i could judge the pitch count just by the reaction of the crowd. Second, the game was so last-minute that Major League Baseball didn’t have time to reserve special tickets for dignitaries and celebrities., Behind us were a bunch of union plumbers and electricians who had bought last-minute standing-room-only seats — it sure seemed all the fans there were pretty “normal.”
Except for Hanni, I guess.
The game was very, very fun. Well, okay, it was *especially* fun after Thome hit his home run – we ended up winning one to nothing, which means THE WHITE SOX ARE GOING TO THE PLAYOFFS!

Hanni was pretty excited and animated during both games. After Thome’s home run last night, though, one of the union guys behind me poked my shoulder and yelled (he had to yell, the park was so loud with cheering) into my ear, “Your dog is sleeping!” I felt down, and sure enough, Hanni was curled into a ball, sawing logs. She had done her job, so to speak, and was confident the White Sox would win.

For those of you who aren’t baseball fans, let me try to explain why the White Sox had to win three different games, against three different ballclubs, during the last three days, in order to get into the playoffs this year. No, wait. I’m too exhausted to explain. Let me leave you with a blurb from MLB Headlines instead. I’ll paste it below and close this post with one of my favorite salutations: Go, go, White Sox!

Chicago, IL — (Sports Network) – Alexei Ramirez slugged a grand slam to break a tie in the sixth inning and Chicago steamrolled Detroit, 8-2, in a make-up
contest from U.S. Cellular Field.

The extra tilt was necessary after the clubs’ September 13 game was postponed due to rain. As a result, the White Sox came into action trailing the AL Central-leading
Twins by a half-game.

Jermaine Dye knocked in a pair while A.J. Pierzynski collected two hits and drove in a run for the White Sox (88-74), who will host Minnesota for a one-
game playoff Tuesday to determine the division winner. Whoever comes away victorious will face the AL East champion Tampa Bay Rays beginning Thursday.

Chicago is expected to send John Danks to the hill facing Minnesota’s Nick Blackburn for a 7:30 p.m. (et) start.

“Tomorrow will be just like today,” said Pierzynski. “We win or go home. It’s that simple and I am glad we are playing here.”

That's Jenny with Hanni and me at The Bookstore in Glen Ellyn.

I’m heading to Geneva, IL today to do a presentation at a preschool, then speak at the Geneva Public Library. Geneva is about an hour west of Chicago – Hanni and I will take a commuter train there. My friend Jenny from The Bookstore in Glen Ellyn, IL will bring books to sell after my library presentation, then she’ll take me back to the train station (after stopping somewhere to visit over a glass of wine/beer, of course!).

Anyone living in the 21st century would figure that all these arrangements would require me to own a cell phone. I do. But I rarely use it. I know how to make a phone call with my cell phone, but without being able to see the screen, I only call people with phone numbers I know by heart. I don’t leave my phone on when I’m out an about with Hanni – I need to concentrate on her, I can’t be distracted by phone calls. I use my phone to collect voice messages that I listen to later, and I call 1-800-555-TELL (that’s the “Tell Me” number) when I’m out and about and need to know a baseball score. Other than that, my cell phone lies dormant.

I’ve heard of three companies, Code Factory, Dolphin, and Nuance that have products to make some high-end cell phones fully accessible. If I used a cell phone with this specialized software, I could attach headphones to my phone and listen to music, read text messages, even surf the web on my phone.

Gee, I’d be just like everyone else on the commuter train to the suburbs!

One problem, though. Price. The special software for these phones can cost around $300 or more. I’ve also heard of a screenless cell phone made especially for the blind. Without a screen, there is more room to make the buttons distinguishable from each other.

Supposedly all of the functions on this Owasys phone talk. something tickles me about having a cell phone without a screen – what a novelty!

For now, though, I’m happy to pack my regular cell phone and leave it off for the train ride to Geneva. Instead of text messaging and calling my friends on the hourlong ride, I plan on listening to a book. Maybe talking to the conductor. And definitely petting Hanni.

The day of my visit to Walker's Grove Elementary in Plainfield, Ill., happened to be "Weird Hair Day." Now that's scary.

The initial questions during our presentation at Walker’s Grove Elementary in Plainfield, IL yesterday were about how old Hanni is, what kind of dog she is, does she ever get a bath, that sort of thing. But then a third grade boy got up his courage to ask the one question he’d been wondering about the whole time. “Is it scary being blind?”

I get that question a lot during my presentations to children. Adults rarely ask me that, though. Hmm. Maybe they’re afraid to!

I think it’s scarier for people to watch me being blind than it is just being me. I’m not really afraid walking around downtown Chicago with Hanni, for example. I’m focused, that’s for sure. and yes, I’m careful. And okay, I’ll admit: sometimes I’m even a little nervous. But my heart doesn’t pound, I don’t fear for our lives. With Hanni, I’m confident. I know we’ll make it. Part of the reason for that, of course, is that she and I were so well trained at the Seeing Eye.

Here’s an excerpt about that training from my memoir, Long Time, No See. A couple things you’ll need to know to understand this excerpt: Robert is the man who trained Hanni and me. Dora was my first Seeing Eye dog, a beautiful Black Lab who worked until she was 12 years old.

Over the years, Dora had become so slow that I was unconsciously pushing her along rather than letting her pull me. Hanni didn’t like this. It confused her—she was supposed to pull me, and I wasn’t letting her. Robert tightened Hanni’s harness in a way that made it difficult for me to lift it and push, and on our routes through Morristown he kept a close eye on me, scolding and coaching me to keep the harness where it belonged. It reminded me of piano lessons, teachers struggling to rid me of the bad technique I’d developed after years of playing on my own.
I didn’t fight Robert, and I wasn’t defensive. I knew that getting the harness placement right again was key to my success with Hanni. After a few days it was easy to hold the harness correctly: Any time I did, Hanni flew. We skated down the sidewalks of Morristown, narrowly avoiding parking meters, garbage cans and telephone poles. “I don’t have any fingernails left!” Robert laughed after following us on one solo trip.

Hanni is eight-and-a-half years old now, and she doesn’t always zip along quite as fast as she did back then. But if the weather is cool, and Hanni’s spirits are high, we still have days we leave some Chicagoans “eating our dirt.” You’ll know them if you see them – they’re the ones without fingernails.