The day before Whit and I were in Highland Park, kids got to test out wheelchairs in the gym.

I’ve written about Patty O’Machel here before. A writer, special needs advocate and the mother of a teenager who has cerebral palsy, Patty has started her own business to encourage other schools to use the disability awareness curriculum she developed years ago for her daughter’s elementary school. Educating Outside the Lines launched last year, and already many Chicago suburban school districts have added the program to their curriculum. Prosthetic legs, wheelchairs and white canes can be scary to kids, so Patty developed her Educating Outside the Lines program to allow children to experience these “helping tools” hands-on and meet some people who use them. Example: before Whitney and I arrived in Highland Park for our school visits Tuesday, the third graders had used a Braille typewriter to write in Braille. Patty’s program serves to demystify differences, erase isolation, combat bullying.

It’s a great program for the kids who participate, and it’s been great for me, too — Patty has asked my Seeing Eye dog Whitney and me to visit schools we’ve never been to before! And that, in turn, is good news for you Safe & Sound blog readers who enjoy hearing questions kids ask during my school presentations. Here’s a sampling from the third-graders Whitney and I met at Braeside and Ravinia elementary schools in Highland Park, Illinois this past Tuesday:

• How do you get into a car?
• Do you remember what things looked like when you were a little kid and could still see?
• Do you have lots of friends who are blind?
• How do you swim if you can’t see where you’re going?
• Can you play sports if you’re blind?
• Did you ever drown?
• So after you get in the car, how do you drive, I mean, like, there are all those buttons so how can you tell those buttons and how can you know which one to push?
• How old are you?
• How do you get on the plane if pets aren’t allowed on planes?
• So if a friend comes to pick you up, how do you know if they’re there and it’s the right car?

Right then a boy named Alistair raised his hand. “I have an idea for you, Beth!” he exclaimed. “How about if you teach your dog to bark just once if its a friend? And then two barks would mean it’s a taxi, and three barks…”. What a sweet little guy. I hated to cut him off, but hey, we had to get going — there was still another school to visit. “Alistair! You’re a genius!” I gushed, making a point to thank him before breaking the bad news. “One problem, though,” I said with a sigh. “Seeing Eye dogs aren’t allowed to bark.”

Whitney and I are visiting two more elementary schools in Highland Park this Wednesday, so look for more questions in an upcoming post. In the meantime, you can check out this short video to see the positive impact Educating Outside the Lines has on the kids who participate, and Link to the Educating Outside the Lines web site for more information on ways to bring ability programs to schools.

Know how actors prepare to do fight scenes on stage? I do!

Mike joined me for Goodman Theatre’s presentation of the Pulitzer Prize-winning Sweat yesterday — my Seeing Eye dog Whitney led me to the theater early to participate in the audio touch tour before the show.

Still time to see “Sweat” at Goodman Theatre.

Other touch tours I’ve been to in Chicago have introduced me to actors, directors, set designers, stage managers and costume designers, but this is the first touch tour I’ve been to where a stage combat director took the time to show us how a fight scene would play out on stage.

Fight choreographer Matt Hawkins came on stage after we’d been introduced to the Sweat actors. Matt explained how fight choreographers (sometimes called stage combat instructors) minimize the possibility of an actor hurting themselves or their fellow actors while doing stage combat. “It’s my job to make sure the actors understand they never have to make a move in a fight scene that makes them feel unsafe, we actually want them to speak up if they feel unsure or unsafe about a move.”

And with that, he turned around to the actors and asked if they’d feel comfortable going through the play’s fight scene and describing their actions out loud as they performed them for us. “We’ll do it very slowly,” he said. “You’ll take your places, and when I say go you’ll say your character’s name, describe the action you’re doing as you perform it, and react just as you will during the performance,” he said. “You all comfortable with this?” Sounded to me like they all said yes, but just to make sure, Matt called the name of each actor one by one to ask if they were comfortable. Each said yes, and then Matt said “Go!”

”Jason pushing Oscar in the chest!” the actor playing Jason says, and we hear Oscar let out a painful “Oomph!” We hear Chris on the side yelling for them to stop, and then Jason pipes up. “Jason picks up baseball bat!” Then the actor playing Stan says, “Stan  grabs hold of Jason’s arm to pull him back!” Jason says,” Jason shoves Stan’s arm backward,” and Stan says, “Stan falls to his knees!” we hear a thump. Jason actor says “Jason picks up baseball bat, pulls it backward and swings it at Oscar’s stomach!” we hear Oscar moan. “Oscar falls on Stan,” the actor playing Oscar says, and then we hear another actor moaning. Must be Stan…

It continued from there. Before this sample scene started, Matt told us TV and film have convinced viewers that there’s a certain sound that accompanies each blow, but in real life, punches do not make much sound. Spoiler alert here: A woman on stage who is not in the midst of the brawl supplies the sound effect. “Audiences expect a sound,” Matt said with a shrug. “So Jessie times each blow and claps with every punch.”

My description here cannot do this all justice. I fear I may leave readers thinking Steam is a violent play. It is not. The entire fight scene probably took 8 seconds, and it’s the only physical violence in the entire play.

But it is an extremely important scene.

I’ve been to plays with fight scenes before, but at those, all I could do when the fight started was close my eyes, sit back, and wait until the scene was over. I’d have to wait until after the play to ask the sighted friend with me to explain what wwent down.

The touch tour yesterday showed me, an audience member who can’t see, how the scene was choreographed. It also explained how much actors in a fight scene on stage have to do to stay safe. It was fascinating.

Seems to me that playwrights who write fight scenes into their plays must do so for a reason. Maybe a fight scene helps tell the story when words are not enough? Thanks to the audio touch tour sneak preview I got for Sweat yesterday, I was able to take in the message of the entire play. Thank you, touch tour. Thank you, brave actors. Thank you, fighting instructor. Thank you, Goodman Theater Accessibility Services.

Sweat has been extended to April 21, 2019, and Chicago Tribune theater critic Chris Jones says the Chicago performance was better than the one he saw on Broadway years ago. Get more information and buy tickets here.

I’m heading off to beautiful Grand Haven, Michigan today for Sisters’ Weekend, and while I’m away my young friend Ali Krage is stepping in with a guest post.

I met Ali 15 years ago at a “low-vision conference” in DuPage County. “I’m blind like you and I can read Braille and I go to the same school my twin sister goes to, but she can see, can you give me your email address? We can be pen pals!” Who could refuse an invitation like that? Ali was only 11 years old back then. She’s in college now and helps me out by writing guest posts on the blog I moderate for Easterseals National Headquarters.

This one was published on the Easterseals blog yesterday. It’s about the challenges and joys of preparing for a staycation with her boyfriend…when neither of them can see.

Joe and Ali.

by Alicia Krage

For Christmas this past year, my parents gave me a gift certificate for a free night at the Hilton Garden Inn hotel in Addison, just a couple miles from my hometown. This wasn’t something I expected to receive, and I took it as a sign of independence. My parents have always been encouraging about my independent travels, whether that meant visiting friends at local or faraway colleges, or (in this case) staying at a hotel.

They’re also good about letting me figure things out on my own, so they left it to my boyfriend Joe and me to choose the date and figure out transportation. Joe and I spent the next few weeks trying to pick a time that would be convenient to go. The certificate didn’t expire until December 2019, but I didn’t want to wait too long. I was afraid we might forget to use it!

After discussing many options, we finally decided to take advantage of the free time I’d have during spring break and use the hotel stay as a mini getaway. We specifically chose March 14. Here’s a little bit of a fun fact: You might recall that in a past blog post, I explained that Joe and I were casually seeing one another before we became an official couple and went on a few dates. March 14 was the day he asked me out on our very first date four years ago. We’ve never acknowledged this day as anything to celebrate, since this isn’t our official anniversary, but since it landed on my spring break we decided to do something different and use it as an excuse to go to a nice hotel.

After finally choosing a date, it was time to call the hotel. I let the receptionist know that we were both blind, so if there was a way to add a note to the reservation, I would appreciate it if that was added. “Yes, of course!” she said. “I’ll also put ‘special assistance’ so they know they have to help you with things like leading you to your room.” The friendliness in her voice was reassuring, and the hint of familiarity, like this news wasn’t a shock, put a smile on my face as I thanked her and said goodbye.

Next was figuring out transportation. I knew that if my parents were free, they would take us, but I enjoy being independent and traveling on my own. I had a gift card for a local Italian restaurant nearby, so we decided we’d take an Uber to that restaurant first, have a nice lunch, and Uber from the restaurant to the hotel to check in. I used voiceover on my iPhone to navigate through the Uber app to enter in the pick-up location and destinations to get the fare for both trips, and Joe and I agreed to split the fare each time.

The day before our trip, my dad took me to the Hilton to get oriented. Upon arriving, we walked to the front desk, and my dad explained to the receptionist that I had a reservation there the following day and, because I’m blind, he wanted to take me around a bit to get the “lay of the land.” The receptionist said that was fine, sounding polite. We started out by walking to the elevators, then heading to a different floor to look at room numbers.

When I was checking out the Braille sign near the door, I noticed there wasn’t a key hole. My dad explained you simply hold your key card up to the door. “It’ll be scanned to unlock the door for you.” This was a relief! It meant I wouldn’t have to request for a corner to be cut on the room key so we’d know how to insert it. After checking out a few more rooms, we headed to the first floor to look at the pool area.

We couldn’t go into the pool area (you needed a key to get in) but my dad was able to look through the window to give me a description of the layout. After practicing these routes a few times — from the elevators to the pool, from the pool to the elevators, and the elevators back to the front — I was even more excited.

Find out how the hotel stay goes when we publish Part Two later this week.

Remember when I wrote that post last September about recording a StoryCorps interview with renowned baseball organist Nancy Faust? It’s going to air this Friday morning, March 15, 2019 on WBEZ in Chicago!

That’s me celebrating with Nancy at Half Sour (our local tavern) after recording the interview last year. (Photo: Joe Jenkins.)

The timing is perfect: Mike, Seeing Eye dog Whitney and I are flying to Arizona tomorrow to stay with Nancy and Joe for a few days. Their son Eric and his girlfriend Ann will be there, too, and we’ll all head to Camelback Ranch on Friday to be at Nancy’s one-day return to the baseball organ bench: She’s performing at Friday’s Cubs-Sox Spring Training game!

The baseball field at Camelback Ranch does not have a baseball organ, but Nancy says that’s no problem: with the help of her sweet husband Joe Jenkins, she will bring her own. “They changed the spot for the organ and asked if we could deliver it Thursday instead of today,” she wrote me in an email message this morning. “So we arranged for a 10 a.m. delivery and can easily get to the airport when you arrive.” Now, tell me: How many people do you know who have baseball organist friends who pick them up at the airport, and, when necessary, bring their own instrument from home to play at the ballpark?

My relationship with Nancy Faust started on a bittersweet day –- the day my eye surgeon told Mike and me that none of the surgeries they tried had worked, From my memoir, Long Time, No See:

The White Sox were in town that day. Going to a ballgame after learning I’d be blind for the rest of my life was probably a strange thing to do, but it beat heading home and sitting on our pitiful second-hand couch and wondering where to turn next.

The White Sox were having a rotten year. There were maybe 8,000 people in the stands. Floyd Bannister pitched, the Sox lost. But it was strangely pleasant, sitting next to Mike with my head up, not giving a thought to eyes or surgery. We each had a bratwurst and a beer. Between bites and gulps and giving me play by play, Mike bantered with other fans, cursing the underachievers on the team. I laughed at the tunes selected by Nancy Faust, the Sox organist–she’s famous for picking songs that play on player’s names. Mike marveled at the endurance of Carlton Fisk, and we both wondered out loud why every time we went to a game, that bum Bannister was pitching.

When Nancy Faust was at the organ and a player walked, you might hear Johnny Cash’s “I Walk the Line.” If there was a pickoff throw, she’d likely play “Somebody’s Watching me.” And when the pickoff was successful? The Kinks’ “You Really Got Me.” Nancy was also at the organ when Harry Caray first sang “Take me out to the ballgame” for the seventh-inning stretch at Comiskey Park. And she was the first to play “Na, na, na, nah, na, na, na, nah, hey, hey, hey, goooodbye!” when the opposing pitcher got sent to the showers.

She always helped me know who was batting by teasing the player’s name with a tune. Some of Nancy’s choices were obvious — Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five” for players with that number, the theme from “Magnificent Seven” for players sporting number seven on their backs. Nancy invented walkup music, and to my mind, she was better at choosing songs than today’s players are.

I stopped by Nancy Faust’s booth at White Sox Park after Long Time, No See was published in 2003 to sign a copy for her. I was tickled to have an opportunity to thank her personally for helping me track what’s happening on the field, and we’ve been friends ever since.

Mike’s all-time favorite Nancy Faust walk-up tune is the one she’d play for Gary Disarcina. No, it wasn’t “Gary, Indiana” from the Music Man. That is wayyyy too obvious. It was “Have you Seen Her?” by the Chi-Lites.

As for me, I used to think Nancy was at her best whenever Travis Hafner was in town. At a game against the Cleveland Indians, she played “Bunny Hop” for his first at bat, and then J. Geils “Centerfold” his next time up. During our StoryCorps interview she told me that when a streaker once jumped from the stands and ran across the outfield, she played, “Is That All There Is?” That’s my new fave.

The interview she and I did last September was 45 minutes long. The one that airs Friday will be five minutes, tops, but I’m hoping/expecting they’ll leave some of the parts in where she explains where she comes up with all these ideas. Chicago Tribune Sports writer Phil Rosenthal said it perfectly in the opening to his Monday column, where he alerts fans to cue the fanfare for the comeback at the March 15 Spring Training game: “It’s a big week for one of the greatest, most consistent, versatile and innovative players in Chicago sports history,” he says. “That, of course, would be Nancy Faust.”

It’s been years since Beth and I attended a movie at like, you know, a movie theater. Part of that is we filter for kinds of movies that Beth likely can enjoy—dialog-heavy, play-like movies. They’re kind of few and far between, and then when we note one that would be a good bet, we’re late to the draw and find it’s already left the local theaters and maybe we see it streaming, maybe not.

Over the past few months there have been more releases of stuff we’d consider than usual. “Can you ever forgive me?”, “The Frontrunner,” “Wildlife,” and “Green Book” all come to mind.

A scene from Green Book. Click to visit trailer.

Well, on Thanksgiving last week, we headed to our local theater to see a matinee, “Green Book.” I’ll never be accustomed to escalators, electronic ticket kiosks, reserved seating and the absolutely awful popcorn that seems to be standard in today’s multiplexes. Or the reclining seats we scored in the disabled seating section (Whitney came along for the walk). Beth, on the other hand, was horizontal snuggled with her coat as a blanket within minutes.

After endless previews and a Dolby sound demonstration loud enough to damage one’s hearing, the movie finally started.

We both liked it a lot. If you’re a Viggo Mortensen fan (I am), it’s almost worth it just for his performance. If you’re a Mahershala Ali fan (I am now), it’s almost worth it just for his performance. Without question, their combined performance plus that of Linda Cardellini is worth the price of admission.

Because of the backdrop—the Jim Crow South, a North that had and has its own institutionalized problems—the movie is fraught. Some reviews say it sugar coated things and lets racists and institutionalized racism off the hook. I didn’t think so.

I’ve read up on the protagonists—the movie is based on a true story—which is a pretty damn good story without any dramatic help. But movies are movies, and I could tell where liberties were taken to state or, in some cases, overstate a point. There was some predictable schmaltz But I, for one, felt tension—authentic tension—from the start that carried through the movie. The kind where you’re dreading something really bad is about to happen even when something good is happening. That’s good filmmaking.

Everyone’s entitled to their opinions. Mine is that this movie wasn’t made to address institutionalized racism. It was made to tell a story, which it did like only a well-made movie can. And thanks to the movie, a whole lot more people are likely to learn more about the story.

Then, last night, we watched another movie called “Pick of the Litter,” thanks to the generosity of our friend Nancy, who streamed it. I don’t think there will be a whole lot of controversy about this one. (Although, you never know.)

Warning: Rated XXX for puppy porn.

Anyway, “Pick of the Litter” chronicles the birth of a litter of prospective guide dogs, their training and socialization by puppy raisers, they’re guide dog training with an instructor, and being paired with a visually impaired partner.

It was filmed at Guide Dogs for the Blind in California. GDB is on the other side of the United States from The Seeing Eye in New Jersey, where Beth has trained with four dogs. But they operate very similarly. For example, every puppy in a litter gets a name with the same first letter. Poppin, Primrose, Patriot, etc.

A lot of what Beth does in daily life—and I, too, to a lesser extent—is explain how the guide dog process works, and how it doesn’t work, often correcting completely understandable misconceptions.

This movie addresses virtually every question and misconception people have ever brought up. And it just nails the process: the incredible amount of training that has to accompany just the right canine demeanor to make a successful guide. The bottomless generosity of puppy raisers who adopt pups in training, put an enormous effort into socializing and training their charges, and then, give them back to the school after a year.

The incredible thing: If a raiser’s dog flunks out at any point, he or she is typically given first dibs on adopting what becomes known as a “career change” dog. But to a person—and we experienced this when we met dozens of puppy raisers at The Seeing Eye—they deeply want their dog to clear all the hurdles and help someone, someone like Beth, for example.

It’s very well done, painstakingly accurate, occasionally heartbreaking, but—if you need reminded (as I do, oh, every day) how good people can be, I give it four paws up.