Two stories from my youth:
1) When I was in elementary school, we were forced to sing in the chorus. Our music teacher thought it would make it more interesting to have us sing contemporary songs like "St. Elmo's Fire (Man in Motion)" by John Parr (it was 1985). Aside from being a sweet jam, did you know it was about a Canadian that rolled around the world in a wheelchair? Choke on that Terry Fox. Anyways, despite cementing my hatred for singing in groups (I would never attend the actual chorus performances) the song stuck with me over the years because; aside from playing Murderball, wheeling around the world is probably the coolest thing a person in a wheelchair can do.
2) A couple years ago I was crushed under a vending machine while trying to shake out a Snickers bar (I know what you're thinking; "how did a vending machine fall on him while he was on the toilet?", sadly though, I'm not speaking figuratively, I was literally shaking the machine for candy and it fell on me). Anyhow, the injuries I sustained from my attempt to cheat the vending machine earned me the pleasure of being wheelchair-bound in a physical rehab hospital for several weeks while I recovered (never got the fucking candy bar). Being in a rehab place with a bunch of quads I learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the type of wheelchair they're in, for instance: if a person is in a standard issue upright wheelchair (think Born On The Fourth Of July) you don't need to feel sorry for them, they're probably only temporarily injured and they'll walk again. If a guy's in a sleek fiberglass one with no armrests and tiny little wheels up front, he's a cripple and probably craps in a bag. But it's not the end of the world, someday, he may be able to be an IT guy or something. Finally if you see a guy in one of those motorized chairs with the blow-tube, he's fucked. Might as well wheel him out by the dumpsters and let the rats eat him, he's not going to contribute anything to society (again, I know what you're thinking, "what about Stephen Hawking" - well fuck Stephen Hawking, I have a theory that he's actually retarded and it was his fancy talking wheelchair that wrote all those books...). But I digress..
Spending several weeks in a chair got me thinking, could I apply for the wheelchair division of the NYC Marathon? I've gone to the website and haven't found anything that requires you to be crippled. Even if it did, I still walk with a limp from my candy-caper, so I'm golden either way.
Bottom line, just like John Parr's lyrics inspired me as a child, I want to pay it forward and be an inspiration for every lazy, out-of-shape, able bodied person by entering the NYC Marathon's wheelchair division and coming in second, then while the winner is celebrating his victory, I want to get out of my chair and moonwalk around him to show him that I can still walk. That's what a real champion would do...
Take me where my future's lying, St. Elmo's Fire.
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