Simcoes' Philosophy on Living

A precocious child, I was walking by the time I was nine months old. That lasted for three and a half months. My 1954 Halloween "trick" was polio. It was touch and go at that time, but after many surgeries and much rehabilitation I am now a woman with a spine of steel, "stabilized" left ankle, fused right ankle, free-swinging right knee, a left knee with substantial flexion but no extension, plus weak abdominal muscles. 

Until the time I entered college, I "motorvated" with crutches and braces. In college, I got into sports and discovered the liberation that a wheelchair can provide. Suddenly I was able to get a lot more done with a lot less effort. Now, at work I am the "lady in the purple wheelchair" (which I call "Barney") and at home I cruise around in "Floyd" which is bright pink. If one gains freedom with a chair, it might as well be fun. And if your sense of political correctness keeps you from pointing me out as "the lady in the purple wheelchair," I wasted my money on the upgraded color.

My bachelors degree is in Speech Pathology, but my heart really isn't in it. I was the kid at home who was always helping Dad as he worked on the car and house. My curiosity about "what makes things go," eventually turned me to the computer. I became proficient with a number of pieces of early personal computer software which has led to my present job as a multi-media training engineer with a large computer company.

My father was a fighter pilot, so I grew up as an Air Force brat. We lived all over the United States and parts of Germany. I do not even remember the names of all the schools I attended. By the time I was in high school, Dad had retired from the service and we settled down in San Jose, California. My best friend in high school is still by best girl friend today. She and I were on the periphery of the social scene, but not ostracized.

In college I began seriously dating. Over a period of several years I had several boy friends and lovers, but it was Kent who convinced me that I am really "special." And life has never been better.

Side Bar 2 -- Mini-AutoBio Of Kent Simcoe

Forever I have been a pack animal. The totem on my tee-shirt is a golden retriever. The Boy Scout dictum to "do a good turn daily" was especially easy to accept and deliver upon. I get scant pleasure from doing things alone, preferring instead to team up with others to make things happen. Almost all of my professional career has been in service, support, and teaching positions.

From my earliest memories I have understood that people are measured by the contents of their hearts, rather than by any surface characteristics. Folks with disabilities were neither more nor less than anyone else. People who have engineered a pleasurable life while circumventing physical limitations have forever fascinated me.

Romantically I tended to ignore the "cheerleaders" and was drawn to ladies more different from the norm; the tall, the short, the chunky, and those with disabilities. My first "heart throb" (at age four) was Klara in "Heidi." In all cases, I have sought female companionship possessing substantial talent. It has worked best when her talents have been synergistic with mine. 

Following a divorce from a short, musical, mathematician, I started dating Sally, a co-worker. She was incredible: Computer savvy; musical; artistic; short; chunky; and a veritable wheelchair jockey. Early on, Sally said, "Walk beside me." Suddenly, while walking hand-in-hand, I was with the first woman in my life who could keep up with me. Now, fifteen years later, I have been "sharing a pair of legs with a friend." Life is wonderful.

Some folks spend so much time and effort "leveling the playing field" that they fail to get around to the game. We take issue with them. We are not keen on creating "fairness" in life because total fairness would be life without motion, emotion, sensation, or thought. Usually our attitude can be summarized as "Shut up and play your cards." At the same time, we are a "pair with a chair," so we applaud curb cuts, ramps, wide doorways, and other accessibility features. As significant tax payers, we consider such mandated items to be money well spent.

For those who respond "Yeah, but life is tough!" we point to a recently observed bumper snicker that reads, "Road of Life Ahead -- Trials and Tribulations Mandatory, Misery Optional." Life is what you choose to make of it. We choose to enjoy. Yes, we have each experienced pain and frustration, but we choose not to celebrate darkness.

While going to college, Kent worked as a vacation relief technician at KMBC-TV in Kansas City. "There's no business like show business," and Kent never lost his desire to work with video. In late 1985 Kent partnered with Lenor Madruga (author of "One Step at a Time") and several of her acquaintances to produce a TV show. In the search for possible show subjects, he did a test interview with Olympic hopeful Diana Golden. The TV show never made it to syndication, but the Diana interview was used as a fund-raiser for her. (Diana went on to win a gold medal in the 1988 Olympics in Calgary in the handicapped skiing event.) Sally was introduced to the mystery of video editing during this production. The editing equipment belonged to a friend and the facility was not accessible. Sally had to climb two and a half stories up the stairs on her butt. 

At the time of our marriage in 1987, Sally was a mere child of 34 and Kent was an "almost senior citizen" of 49. Sally had forever dreamed of an elegant wedding with a long flowing wedding dress. She ordered such a dress plus a brace for her left leg. Kent got her a pair of custom made rosewood Canadian style canes. Sally's mother intensely disliked long dresses in general and long dresses on Sally in particular. A mother/daughter battle ensued which went on for months. It was not until the morning of our wedding day that we found out that Sally's mother would be present. 

The entire congregation of the church was invited plus a large contingent of colleagues from work. Kent's grown children joined in the ceremony -- his two daughters as bridesmaids, and his two sons as groomsmen. Sally was suddenly a mother of four grown children. (And now a grandmother with three grandsons and a granddaughter.)

Our wedding was spectacular. Sally walked down the aisle supported by her father on her left and one of the Canadian canes on the right. The resident composer at church had written an original song for Sally which she sang. For the recessional, Kent supported her left side. It was a full, proper wedding with a beautiful bride in a long flowing dress.

At first we lived in an apartment in Cupertino, California, but after a few months we were able to buy a house in San Jose. A few grab bars and ramps and it was "home."

In 1989, while contemplating a possible "early retirement" with a significant "golden handshake" for Kent, we created "Simcoe Communications." Simcoe Communications specializes in all of our talents which we really enjoy sharing -- especially video and audio. Together, we have produced all manner of "event videography" pieces. We have done weddings, church services, recitals, industrial training classes, public service announcements, the last 36 graduations of Canine Companions for Independence in Santa Rosa, California, and several documentaries.

We have friends and acquaintances with all manner of conditions normally considered to be "disabling." Several of these folks have been given microphone and lens as subjects in Simcoe Communications videos. None are cowed by their situations and some are downright outrageous -- a commercial model/beauty queen without legs; a back-packing geologist without arms; a mother/teacher without hands; a Chinese cook with hooks; a "99 1/2 percent independent" horsewoman born without arms. At present we are working on a story of a waitress who serves from a wheelchair.

In 1992 Sally received Ashelby, a golden retriever service dog from Canine Companions for Independence. "Shelby" blended in immediately and we went from being a "cute couple" to a "cute triple." Shelby became the executive producer of Ashelby Pro Bono Productions, the animal oriented projects section of Simcoe Communications. We have been heavily involved with CCI ever since.

We love to travel. To facilitate adventures in non-metropolitan areas, we have a 28 foot motorhome complete with hand controls. There is an elevator seat beside the door to facilitate Sally's entrance. (An uplifting experience!) Kent created a special six wheel stool which Sally uses inside the RV. With the exception of lots of grab bars at strategic places, no other modifications were required. Attached to the trailer hitch on the rear is a motorized lift for Sally's red Pride electric scooter (called "Rudy," of course.) This scooter has sufficient range and torque so that we can take hikes to those scenic spots that are beyond the view from the parking lot and not really suitable for narrow-wheeled chairs. Four year old granddaughter Grace loves to ride with Grandma aboard Rudy. 

We enjoy life immensely. We know some folks who don't. We've distilled a few of our thoughts and observations. We see four ways which people try to interact with one another: 

First, there are folks who are "givers." They really enjoy providing their time, talent, and material resources to others. For them, altruism is self-serving -- they enjoy giving.

Second, there are folks who are "receivers." They can graciously accept and appreciate the gifts that the "givers" bring. It is especially good if the gifts are complementary with the "receivers" talents and interests.

It behooves all of us to be able to be both givers and receivers and to be able to switch easily from one position to the other. Usually significant trust is required.

Third, there are folks who are "providers." Unlike the "givers," the "providers" are puppeteers -- there are strings attached to their gifts. They provide their time, talent, or material resources to gain power over their intended recipient. Sally's mother was a "provider."

Fourth, there are the "takers." These are the folks with "entitlements." "Life owes me this."

"Takers" exhaust "givers" -- they suck the joy out of giving. "Receivers" will drive "providers" nuts because they don't accept the strings. Sally would not accept the "strings" that came with many of her mother's offerings. It is best that "givers" pair with "receivers" and "providers" go with "takers." (Political note: The provider-taker model describes government sponsored welfare -- a powerful supplier with an entitled but entrapped recipient.)

The "giver-receiver" pairing is of special importance to folks with something amiss at the physical level. Often we find folks who are unable to share their disability -- folks with wheelchairs who refuse to allow others to help with the propulsion, for instance. What is relatively little effort for the potential "giver" is often much more tiring for the possible "receiver." 

In a sense, people who have been very successful at circumventing physical difficulties may paint themselves into a lonesome corner. They never fully share themselves with those who would be close to them. There is a part of their personal space which is totally off limits to others. Perhaps they have met too many "providers" and cannot believe that there are "givers" in the world. Another explanation might be that the would-be "giver" sees the disabling situation in a less serious light than the potential "receiver." Yet another thought -- "What if some like you best JUST AS YOU ARE?" They find you more desirable than your unaffected identical twin.

From the very beginning of our courtship, Sally's polio has been "our" polio. It is not something to pity, but rather for us to accommodate and others to accept. It is not bad -- up front parking, service dog, bi-level views of the shelves in stores, etc. Together we are definitely much more than the sum of our parts. We wish the same for all.