BLIND DAVE'S BLOG

06-02-2007

In the latest installment from our blind Black Country marathon runner, check out the danger of pedestrian crossings that sighted motorists somehow can't see and Guide Dogs with no sense of direction. Not to mention those bloomin' refuse skips...

Hello Stirrers

Well it's been another funny sort of week. I got lost at the bottom of my own street, but getting into Lidls now is a piece of cake. Yep, by using the right doors it's so h easier, no sore shoulders, no one shouting at you, buying those grapes is luxury. (If you're wondering what I'm on about, check my last blog here)

But can you believe it I got lost at the bottom of my own street? Thanks to my guide dog Wicksie. Him and other dogs! He must have seen another dog or cat, before I had realised he was up on his toes, took me across the road and before I could react, I was lost.

I thought we were going back across the same road, but as it turned out we weren't - obviously Wicksie had other idea. Eventually, 35 minutes later, I got my bearings. By now I was very thirsty and a bit frustrated, because a pint was waiting for me.

As it turned out so was a skip. Yes, some nice person had parked a skip right in the middle of the footpath, we negotiated it in a fashion, both of us hugging a fence, I was a little annoyed to say the least. In fact the chap whose house it was outside rang me the following evening to apologise, not that in any way it was his fault.

He told me they heard someone passing an opinion outside and when he looked through the window, he saw me shouting abuse at the skip. As I was so mad, he decided to stay inside his front door - mind we had a good laugh over the phone the following evening.

All the same, not seeing where you are, knowing you are in your own street but then being confronted by a rather large skip, it can be a bit daunting.

Talking about skips, we have had the builders in next door, bless them and I mentioned we had a little bit of rubbish and could we put it in their skip. Their words not mine, were “Yes I'm sure a couple of bags of rubbish will be OK”.

I never mentioned how many bags, in fact I never mentioned bags at all, nor bricks, nor rockery, nor wood, I just said could I put some rubbish in and they said “Yes”. So a dozen bags of rubbish, a good ton of bricks and rockery, general garden rubbish, a few bags of sawdust, we helped fill their skip.

Well, there was no point wasting all that space, it saved us a few bob, we cleared the garden and at least I asked. I could have filled it after they had gone and they would have been none the wiser - a skip in time saves nine, I'm sure that's the proverb!

Did I mention the word awareness last week, I don't think drivers are aware I'm trying to cross a zebra crossing these days. I've given out the Winston Churchill sign to a few drivers this week - is it me or does every one have the same problem?

To be fair, it's not all drivers, although most of them think they own the road and in a lot of instances, the footpath too. It's so infuriating especially when it's chucking it down with rain and you want to use the Zebra crossing, one way the traffic will stop, pip to call you on and then the other side just keep on going.

One night both sides had stopped and pipped me to cross, some thing told me to wait a second. I'm glad I did. I sensed the car coming up the road wasn't going to stop and I was right. The driver, seeing the other cars had stopped, simply overtook them on the crossing. If I or any one had started to cross…. Well, it doesn't bear thinking about.

Can any one let me know, is it law for motorists to stop at a zebra crossing, or is it just courtesy on their part. I would be very interested to know, perhaps I'm giving out the Winston Churchill sign, unjustly.

The two little one's attended their first dance lessons this week, it's some thing they have been wanting to do for a while, so off they went. The dances they were to learn were Modern, Tap and Ballet.

They came back full of it and had had a great time, now it was time for Dad to learn some of the steps they had been shown! We got as far as the Modern.

Imagine the scene in our kitchen, the two little one's facing me, the wife Debb and my eldest Grace giving the pair of them loads of encouragement, Dad not really wanting to do this, but here we go.

Firstly count to eight and clap hands, followed by raising one arm and shouting Yee Hah, then crouch down, in the frog like position and jump up, arms raised, then pretend to spin your lasso above your head, then skip in and skip out.

To be honest this made no sense to me at all, still it gave Debb and Grace a good laugh and to my horror, I should imagine by now half the town and the internet, as Grace informed me she had videoed it all on her phone. That's it - my street cred has gone straight out the window. Where's data protection when you want it?

Even Wicksie barked his disapproval of my natural rhythm and fine steps! Still the girls enjoyed, they certainly learned and remembered the steps they were shown, Debb said they had got great rhythm, they certainly didn't get that from their Dad, in fact what qualities did they get from Dad? Cheek, I thought. Who knows, they may go on to dance the stages of many a fine theatre, but Dad's dancing career is over before it starts.

So back to what Dad enjoys most, his running - he might not be the best in the world, but he's certainly better at running than dancing. We took part in Not The Roman Nine, a nice run out in Stratford.

Once again, someone's been telling me there are no hills in Stratford. I do wonder about some people - I reckon there are more out there should go back to school for a refresher in geography lessons. Not being a mountain goat and the fact I was breathing and puffing hard meant I must have been running up hill, I'll give them no hills!

Still it was a great run and I look forward to going back and doing it next year. Out of a field of some 700 runners I came in 48th position, which I was more than pleased with. I wanted to run under 50 minutes, too, and we finished in a time of 49 minutes and 47 seconds, so very satisfactory,

Mac was well chuffed with my efforts, even more so because his gaffer was also running and yes, you've guessed, we beat him easily. Not a bad day all round, the Baggies winning, topped the day off nicely. You know it slips my mind who they beat! But black and gold springs to mind.

Well dancing is certainly not my forte, skips are a flipping nuisance, having no luck with Zebra's I'll try Pelican crossings, flying over the road might be better than walking and as drivers take no notice of my Winston Churchill signing, I'll try the Harvey Smith method.
So here's Blind Dave SIGNING off in black and white, until next week.