
If You’re Not a Jerk, Then I’m Not Disabled
This is my fantasy: I’m standing at the Main Street corner in my little New Jersey suburban downtown, waiting to cross the street. As usual, I’m stressed out by the giant SUVs whipping by, oblivious to the crosswalk. But then I remember the “alterations” I made to my ID cane. I whip it out, and it automatically unfolds with a satisfying series of clicks (that part is real, actually). I stick it out in front of me, into the crosswalk. I wait for something to happen. If the nex