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Now that my new leg and I have become good friends, I feel ready to get back to storytelling and singing some songs I wrote many years ago. (Even though I can't sing, I wrote them, so I guess that makes it okay.) Because I overthink things, I didn't feel ready to be on stage again. For me it all has to come together, physically and mentally. But now I'm ready, so I'm going to start booking dates. So stay tuned, my friends . . .
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Recently, as Brie and I were casually walking the aisles of CVS, picking up some needed items, a man stopped me. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.
I didn't know what was coming, but the man added, "I've been watching you and your little dog, and how you casually go about your business without giving it much thought." Probably sensing that I didn't get what he meant, he said, "You two are such an inspiration." With that he smiled down at Brie which caused her to light up. She rushed right over as he bent down to pet her. "What a delight!" he said. "Yes," I said. "She's my love, and we've been together so long, I think we both forget that we're are missing a leg. Brie was so happy that the man paid attention to her, and I was so happy to just be in her presence. People always ask how we met, and I tell them it was purely by accident - an accidental meeting that changed my life. One of my wife's friends once said to me, "Tony, I think you love that damn dog more than you love Pat." "Well," I responded, "of course I love Pat, but Brie has gotten under my skin." Besides being my beloved canine companion, Brie is a constant inspiration, helping me with my challenges as an amputee. And every time she and I take one our casual walks, I witness the power she has to uplift others, simply with an excited wag of her tail as she rushes to greet them on her three legs. It's taken several weeks, but my new leg and I are getting to know one another, and I seem to be in a groove. Some people have to try out new shoes; well, I have to try out new legs! Now that I'm my groove, I'm walking and moving smoothly again. It would be great if I could run, but as they say, "One step at a time."
Now that I've invited people to come an visit my blog again, I figured that I'll make a fresh start. When you get a new leg as an amputee, it's serious business. You hope and pray that the person who measured you got it right. Now that I've had my new leg for several weeks. I'm starting to get in the groove. Every leg has to have a "groove" that you fit into, and it doesn't happen immediately. The scary part is when you first get your new leg, you think you're never going to walk so smoothly again. You think, oh, my God, am I ever going to get my groove back? An added issue is that as I've gotten older, my bones are starting to shift and have taken on a new form; I used to have more of a "buffer" around my bones. But, as I'm going to keep up with writing my blogs, I'm going to keep up with adjusting to my new leg. Summer may be drawing to a close, but a new season of fresh starts awaits us all. And as always, I appreciate your comments.
 I've got my guitar out and starting to practice again! Brie, even while sleeping, is giving me inspiration to re-learn an old skill and passion. Since I was a teenager I've loved playing the guitar, composing songs, and performing them in front of an audience. Lately I've been composing songs in my head from my "older" point of view, and hope to have a couple ready to perform at my next storytelling event at River House Books in Carmel on June 25th. Wish me luck!
I am honored that Nansea Townsend, the local freelance writer who helps me with my website, has begun writing a children's book about how Brie came into my life and the adventures we've had. I never thought that I'd be involved with a children's book, but Nansea thought our story is worthy of one. So I'm giving her material and she's crafting it into a story that we hope will be enjoyable, and will help children understand about people and dogs with disabilities.
 Once again, I meet the most interesting people at IL Fornaio where I work. I asked this priest to say a prayer for me because of a medical issue. It must have worked. Everything came out clear and I have a new friend!
Just last week my wonderful manager at Il Fornaio called me a turkey. I haven't heard that word in many, many years. This morning I looked out my patio door and there he was . . . so maybe I am a turkey!  A few days ago I went to Walgreens in Monterey to get a prescription. The pharmacist asked if I could come back in half an hour when it would be ready. Since I had my three-legged companion, Brie, with me, and it was a sunny day, we took a walk outside. We found a little alleyway and walked through it to a low-standing brick wall, and I decided to just sit there in the sun with Brie. The wind was blowing so my hair looked a little more wild than normal. I had my carrier bag that I use for my leg accessories with me, and there we sat. The sun felt great, but not the looks that people were giving Brie and me. Some didn't want to make eye contact, some just shook their heads in disgust, but most had a sympathetic look for my "poor little rich girl, Brie." And then a homeless man walked up and said, "Do you mind if I sit here?" I replied, "It would be great." He took out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one. I said, "Sure, I would love one." This was a rare opportunity for me to have one in peace, without my wife, Pat, around." So we started talking, and as the conversation was getting better, I started thinking this is one of the smartest, kindest person I've met in a very long time. On that note, when I got up we fist bumped and I was on my way. In that moment, thinking about what it felt like to be homeless, if only for a half hour, I learned so much. And to all the people who gave me "looks," I would like to let them know that homeless people are humans also. So, let me leave you with the words of one of America's greatest songwriters, John Prine. "If you're walking down the street sometime and spot some hollow ancient eyes, please don't just pass them by and stare, as if you didn't care. Say "hello in there. Hello."
I was sitting with Brie on the couch enjoying life one day, and Pat said she had a big surprise for me, and it would be delivered soon. A few minutes later two men delivered a dining table and six chairs! And while they set it up in the corner of the living room, Pat pointed out all the fine details. The quality was unparalleled. I sat there in stunned silence, realizing how much room it took up. I could no longer move in my own living room, but Pat excitedly looked and me and said, "Don't you just love it?"
I said, "I love it, but not in this living room; it's much too big." Every time I got up to walk around, I had to squeeze by the chairs that took up most of the living room. So, after about a week of my complaints, Pat had heard enough and had the movers come back to pick up the table and chairs and return them to the consignment store. The owner said he'd try to sell it. As time went by I forgot all about the table because now I had my space back. Weeks later the consignment man called Pat, saying that he couldn't sell the table and he was having the delivery men bring it and the chairs back to our house. Pat left and the men returned. And, all of a sudden when the table was in the corner where it had been, I was okay with it! It didn't bother me anymore! Pat came home shortly and I told her that the table and chairs were back. Of course, she was happy . . . until she saw it. "This is not the same table and chairs! They're not the same quality as the other one." Well, the smaller table and two chairs have found the perfect place in the corner of our living room, and I've taken it over, stacking my books, posters, and goodies on it, and hanging my jacket on one of the chairs. I am thrilled with my new table, and Pat is tolerating it! |
Tony AlbanoStoryteller Archives
September 2023
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