CrippledCracker [presents] "SOUP N CCRACKERS": 2009

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Arrested

[blog before this] I Pled Guilty

There was a knock on my front door one morning around 9am. I was in the bathroom getting ready to go and see a girl and when I heard the knock, I remember thinking that it was her. I rolled into the living room and opened the front door but there was no one standing on the other side.

I pushed the door shut and rolled backwards away from it and watched while it slowly stopped right before it could close. I remember feeling frustrated that the door did not shut when I had pushed it. Before I approached it, a black dress shoe snaked throught the door and it was followed by a leg that pushed it open even further. When I had seen the shoe I had thought that it belonged to a friend and they were messing with me, but I knew otherwise when the leg coming through the crack in the door turned out to belong to a cop.

His eyes began scanning the room as he stood in my living room holding the door wide open with the side of his foot. He began to study my face before asking me if I was alone in the apartment. He relaxed when I answereed him and then he held up a piece of paper that he haad been holding in one of his hands. He asked me if I was Brandon and when I told him that I was he was hit with a look that was a mixture of confusion and surprise. He asked me if I had always been in a wheelchair. Some one else in the hallway said something to him and I heard the policeman mention something bout a wheelchair before turning back to me. He handed me the paper and told me that they had a warrant for me and I would have to go with them. The person that was out in the hallway stuck his head in the doorway (another officer) and asked me if I could walk. I told him no and he turned to the policeman who was standing in my living room and told him that they would have to call the wagon. I did not want a police van to pull up and draw more attention from the nosy neighbors. I told them that I would be able to get in the car if they helped me.

I went to my room to grab a shirt and my shoes and heard my cellphone ringing with one of my sister's ring tones from where I had left it in the living room. I heard 1 of the cop's answer the phone, that's right, my phone! The other cop followed me back out to the living room where I heard the cop tell my sister that I was going to be arrested. (Thanks officer!) The cop would not give me my phone, he told me that he would hold it and give it back when they were done with me. When we had gotten outside I noticed that each of the officers had driven their own cars and, many of the neighbors had come out to watch.

Let me paint you a picture of what you would have seen if you were that day...

A police officer walked to one of the police cars followed by a guy in a wheelchair that had a officer walking behind him while holding onto a handle of the wheelchair. (did he think I was going to roll away and try to escape?) I was starting to feel embarrassed because I could feel everyone watching me and to make matters worse, the police were giving me the silent treatment. (I probably should not have gone there, but I did.) I turned to the cop behind me and asked him if he was bored, when he asked me why I would ask that I suggested that if he was he should give me a 10min head start. He looked down at me with a look of confusion on his face and I had decided that I had better explain. I told him that I would roll away and they could chase me down as if we were on that show COPS. I was only joking at the time but I remember that neither he nor his partner had shared in my sense of humor. I was led to the back of the cop car that was the closest to the apartment The car was being driven by the cop that was walking behind me. (He was also the one the one that had first entered my apartment.) The officer had walked around to the front of my wheelchair and helped me stand and swivel into the back of his squad car. At this point I was expecting him to through my wheelchair into the trunk of his car, but he went around the car and put the chair in the backseat with me. I asked him to run the siren or at least turn on the flashing lights but he would not.

The ride to the courthouse was boring and it would have been a silent ride if the police radio would not have been on.

When we arrived at the courthouse we were met by 3 other officers. One being the other cop that had come to my apartment to get me. I was unloaded at the back door and the 4 officers followed me into the empty courtroom and the officer that I rode with had directed me where

to park my chair. I remember how I had looked around the room and then my eyes had came

to rest on the judge's desk. It was on a slightly higher platform that the rest of the chairs in the room. The Judge's big black leather chair looked like it was the most comfortable chair in the room. The judge was certainly not in a hurry but when he entered through the door by his bench, he did not look like he was very happy. It was right around lunch time and I guessed his was interrupted so that he could deal with me. If I wasn't on his bad side before, it did not take me long to be:

He opened a folder and glanced it over before he looked directly at me and asked if I was Brandon. When I had said Yea, he repeated the same question but the tone of his voice was that of aggravation. I again said yea to his question and this time he pulled his eye glasses of his face. I could tell from his body language that he was upset, then he began to stare a hole through me. He told me that he was going to ask me the question again and he expected me to give the answer of either yes or no. He asked and I answered. He then glanced down at the folder and asked me why I had never paid my court fine and I told him that I had made 1 payment but,.. He had interrupted me by mentioning the amount (50.00) and in a smart-ass tone he had said something like, payments like that were going to pay the debt off quickly. I had told him that was a lot of money for someone like me. He asked me if I had a job and I had told him that I did not. He asked me why I did not have a job and I told him that I did not drive and there were no jobs near my house that I could physically do. The judge looked me in the eye and told me that it would be easier to get a job, if I took some of the metal (piercings) out of my face and did not look like a fish on the end of a hook. (ha ha. First off, judge or no judge, there is no need for anyone to insult me when I am in a position of being humble to that person. Without missing a beat I had asked him for a job. He had ignored me and then wanted to know why I had not contacted the courthouse and worked something out. I told him that I did call the court house and they informed me that when given a fine, you had to pay it. He asked me why I did not just borrow the money from my parents. I told him that I could not come up with the money. He restated what I had just said and then added in another question wanting to know why I went a year with the knowledge of having a bench warrant out for my arrest. I told him that I had been told by a friend that I might have a warrant, so I called the Police Station and they could not tell me if I had... He interrupted me again and told me that I was under oath and was not going to come inside his courtroom and start lying. When I had asked him what he was talking about, he looked down at the folder that was in front of him. He told me that there was no record of me calling the court house and then he turned to one of the officers that had brought me in. He then asked the officer for verification on what I had just said and the officer of course, agreed to the point the judge was trying to make of having me saying that I had called the court house to check on the bench warrant. I corrected the judge and told him that I had said that I called the police station and not the court house. At this point the judge was trying to patronize me with his tone and then asked me if he should ask a different officer about what I had just said. He had a smile on his face and it was at this point that I begin to get very angry. I told the judge that of course the officer was going to agree with him any of the four officers in the room would agree with him, even the bailiff would agree with him. Then the judge interrupted me but I was not through with making my point. I had told the judge that I had stated that I called the police station (The truth is I had called the police station and asked them if I had a bench warrant out and the person on the other line had informed me they couldn't give that information out over the phone but if I would come down to the police station and present a valid photo I.D they would be glad to help me out! Fuck that l.o.l) and not the courthouse. The judge dismissed me and told me to not speak unless spoken to before continuing his lecture to me regarding lying under oath.

IT WAS AT THIS POINT THAT HE WAS ABOUT TO GET REALLY HEATED WITH ME,

I told him that I was in the wheelchair cause I was handicapped not because I was retarded, He got really loud. He had threatened to charge me with attempted court if I spoke out of line one more time. He then dropped the point of lying under oath and then read the rest of the folder that was laying in front of him. He commented on me completing my hours of community service.

THAT I DID.

I was probably the first guy in a wheel chair in Darke county to have to do community service. My other friend had to pick up garbage along the highway and do other various physical labor jobs for the community, while I had to do my community service for the court house 75 hours in the court house? When I arrived there I had to wait for an hour while they decided where to put me and then I met Gus. They had decided to put me down by the front door to greet people and give then directions for inside the court house. Gus was a senior citizen that volunteered every day, and man what a character he was! Gus would come in for 3 hours everyday and direct guests in the direction of where they needed to go inside the court house. I was assigned to help him and do it each day after he left. I did this for a week, for 7 hours a day. I did not take a lunch break because I was told that if I worked straight through for one week then I would be excused of the remaining hours of community service that I owed. But for the hours that Gus was there the time went by quickly. He had so many interesting stories to tell me about his life. Even though my community service was so many years ago I still will remember the game the 2 of us would play where we would take turns and try to greet someone coming in to the building, better than the other of us had greeted the previous person.

The judge asked me if I wanted to go to jail and I told him that I did not, but I did not have the money that I needed to pay my fine off. (I barely had any of my disability check left to buy food after paying my bills, let alone anything else.) The judge repeated his question again and I turned to one of the officers and held up my wrists. (being a little dramatic? was not my intention to be.) I looked at the Judge and told him that he had to do what he had to do. I then repeated that I could not afford to pay the fine. The judge then spoke like he was at his wits end and declared that I would set up a payment plan and I would get my fine paid off, because if the cops had to bring me in again then I was going to do some jail time. He then instructed the bailiff to take me to set up a payment plan.

I was escorted out of the building by the 4 cops that had stayed in the courtroom with the judge and I. The officer that had brought me in was pushing my wheelchair and he seemed to be the only one that was interested in talking to me. I remember him telling me that I was a pretty cool guy but I needed to learn when to keep my mouth shut.

I was driven back to my apartment complex sitting in the backseat of the cop car that had taken me to the courthouse. My wheelchair had once again been folded up and crammed into the backseat with me. I had talked the cop into turning on the radio for me and I jammed to JIMMY HENDRIX, for the remainder of the drive.

Like they had done when I left, all the nosy neighbors came out of their apartments and watched the cop unload me out of the car.

I got my fine paid off and found out that when I had gone to the DMV the day before to renew my permit, I was turned in.

Monday, September 21, 2009

The Meaning of a Name

When I was younger D' had told me that she knew what she was going to call me because of a dream. I do not know how she came up with my middle name, maybe she dreamed that as well. But my last name has always been different from both D' and my sisters. I had chosen to keep the last name of the man that I thought was my real dad, (I had found my birth certificate.) instead of taking the name of my step. Some of the black kids in my old neighborhood referred to me as a Cracker but I had no idea what a Cracker was.

One night when I was laying in a hospital bed after the surgery, I became the CrippledCracker

When I turned 18 and had graduated from high school and fell out with D', I never went by my birth name. Everyone refer ed to me as CCracker because that is the name that I would introduce myself as. When I had came to Florida and met with my dad and his family, I told them all to call me CCracker. I did

not want to be called by my first name because

D' had given it to me. (Plus, I felt and feel like the person that went by my first name had died in the hospital when the CCracker was born.)

People I worked with referred to me by name but they were the only people that were tolerated to do so.

When I had moved to Florida in late 04 I was staying with my dad and his family until, his wife gave me an impossible deadline to move out. She then hit me with a guilt trip that I could not believe and then I gathered my clothes in disgust. The whole time that I lived in my car I did not hear from anyone. One night after work when I had pulled into the parking lot of my gym and was about to go to sleep, I had looked through the t-tops at the sky. It was at this point that I had decided to change my name. D' had given me my first and middle and I had Bob's last name. I decided that changing my name would help me to eliminate linkage to them and deny them any chance to share in my achievements. (D' knew that I was living in my car because she had gotten my number and was calling me often. It was not hard to see where I stood in Bob's eyes.)

I had always told myself that if I ever had a daughter I would name her Montana Marie. If I had a son, his name would be Dillon Lee. So I decided that I would be known as Dillon Lee Lashton (I just came up with the last name out of the blue.)

My fiance refuses to call me Dillon and told me that she really wants our marriage license to display Brandon (my orig. first name) Because of my love and devotion to her, I am going to keep the first but the middle and last become Lee Lashton.

My name is Brandon Lee Lashton and I am about to start my new life.

Not of the image that the MDA was trying to promote

I began to appear on the JERRY LEWIS LABOR DAY TELETHON every year since the seventh grade when they had sent me to their camp for the first time. I remember how nervous I was at knowing that I would be on television and that I would be seen by many people.

I guess my mom had found out about it on short notice because we did not have time to get something dressy to wear. (I wore my jeans, a long sleeved shirt and my Chicago Bulls hat b I also wore 1 of my CHICAGO, BULLS hats.) But I continued to be on the telethons year after year and began to wear nicer suits each telethon.

My last appearance in 2002 was a lot like my first in many ways. I still got that nervous high in the pit of my stomach when I rolled to the 'red x', which was taped on the floor and was the spot to be before you were to roll in front of the light rigging and the cameras. Those lights, so bright that you almost had to squint when you were looking into the camera and the heat coming off them always had my balls sweating in my dress pants. The main camera would be aimed at you from its poise on the tripod. 'Cue' words would be held up by someone standing behind the camera man so that the man doing the interviews could make sure that every note was addressed.

Every year it would take me a few minutes to warm up to the camera before I would

under-go that weird transformation of being totally comfortable and secure with those in the audience and those watching at home.

D' had lost her faith in the assistance that the Muscular Dystrophy Association was able to offer, so there were a few years that went by in which we did not participate in the telethon. By this point I had already met the age restrictions of the camp so I, personally had no contact with the MDA at this point either. One day I was going through and old journal and had found some numbers and when I had called them, I was invited to appear on the telethon that year.

It was in 2003 and at that time I had many facial piercings. I kept the piercings in and

wore my best suit after it w as ironed. It was

a long show that started late at night and we

arrived there early in the morning.

As with this and many other taped events, there

was a 'green-room' that contained tables of

free food and drinks for those working on the

show.

A few of my friends had gone with me and

we were sitting in the green room when I was

approached by Don Brown.

He had been the main, host of the Dayton section of the Jerry Lewis Telethon (Don Brown had been doing it for years.)

Jerry Lewis would broadcast to every one from a live feed coming from where they were in Las Vegas and when they went on break, individual areas would transmit locally. (Don Brown covered Dayton and surrounding areas.)

Anyway.......

Don Brown approaches the table that my friends and I were sitting and said his hello's being real polite. He had asked me to join him in the hallway for a minute so that he could talk to me.

I could tell from his body language that something was on his mind.

It was so long ago so I cannot remember his exact words but the bases of what he said to me was, that I did not represent the image that the MDA was trying to promote. Being more mature now I am able to see his point on one level. But even though I had piercings in my face did not mean that I was not dressed appropriately enough for the show. I was in a 300.00 dollar suit and I did not have a rude or even aggressive demeanour. "Not the image", Don you smack-head, I have a form of Ataxia which qualifies under Muscular Dystrophy. And........... it was a telethon to help those like me who have many forms of MD. I am sorry that I am not the cute baby faced victim, that did all those promos for you years back. I grew up and piercings were my style and did not have a bearing on my attitude.

After you had "bashed" my image, you just walked away and ignored me until and after our on-camera interview. (which was short and you cut me off) You lost my respect that day and allowed me to see what our 7 year friendship was based around, PITY. But Don as I age I can not help but wonder if you were here in front of me now, who would PITY who.

I wish nothing but the best for your family.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

I think your son is my dad

#85 - I THINK YOUR SON IS MY DAD

My hands were shaking as I opened the door to my bathroom and rolled inside. I had the phone and the number in my lap as I turned and closed the door behind me. I did not want my friends who were sitting in the living room to hear me as I made the call.

Earlier that day Delores and I had gotten into a fight and I had told her that I never wanted to speak with her again.

She called me and told me that she had stumbled across a phone number that used to belong to Rob, (my dad's) mother. Delores had asked me if I wanted to try the number and I remember both how my heart was beating and my hands was shaking while I was trying to write the number down. Delores had told me to call her back if i had wanted the number. I only had to think about that for a moment before I had called her, I had been wondering about my dad constantly and would plan out how are first meeting would go while I had been lifting weights. She had wanted me to let her know if the number had been accurate, I had not been worried about that as I had hoped that the number would be good. (I had already decided that I was not going to call her back if it was the right number, I did not want to start any he said, she said, crap between the two of them.) I had entered the numbers into my cellphone as Delores had read them off.

I remember how I had held my breath as I hit send and how I had felt so dizzy while trying to figure out what I was going to say.

One ring........Two rings ........I still did not know what I was going to say. Three rings.......I was not going to leave a message, but damn! Some one pick up I was so excited and nervous. Was it a wrong number? An older woman's voice picked up on the fourth ring and said hello. When I heard her voice it seemed to catch me by surprise because I was not expecting anyone to answer and I still had no idea of what I was going to say. I can not write word for word what was said but it was a phone call that I will never forget. I asked her if her last name was ******, (I use the asterisks in place of her last name only because I do not want anything that I may accomplish associated with that family.) [see blog](The Meaning of a Name} When she told me that it was, my heart began to race with an excited nervousness. She waited

patiently for me to ask her my next question. I asked her if she had a son named Rob, and held my breath for the brief second that it took her to say that she did. I then asked her what his

middle name was and then I told her that I was Delores's son.

I was caught off guard when she asked me if my name was Brandon and she

told me that they were just talking about me, I was not expecting her to say that. I guess I

expected neither her or her son to know of my existence. [see blog] Getting to know a dad (I was 22 and until then I had not had

any contact or seen any pictures of them, any of them.) [see blog]

First finding out that I had a...dad.

She asked me if she could tell Rob that I had called her later when he got off work. I told her not to tell him because I wanted to call back when I was ready. (I wanted to take this slow and be the one in control because this was a very intimidating situation.) I told her that I would call back in a few days if she didn't mind. I came out of the bathroom and went back into the living room and began to play PLAYSTATION with my friends whe

n my cellphone rang, It was Rob and he sounded both excited and nervous. He asked me if I had any kids and what I did for work. He asked me a few more questions and then he asked me if I had any questions for him. I had many but I did not know what to ask so I told him how nervous I was, He admitted that he was also nervous and had to get back to work but we agreed to talk again soon.

Friday, July 24, 2009

The Road Trip

Picture this... It was Friday night, 2 white guys and 1 black, driving a large moving truck slowly down the alleys in a bad part of the city.

There were many pairs of visible eyes that were watching the truck as it slowly propelled down the dimly lit alley. I was sitting in the middle and my best friend was driving and my other friend was looking around for the signal. He had made a phone call and we were on the look out for a blinking back porch light.

We were looking for the house so that we could get a few things that would make the trip more interesting. My friend had called some people and had told them that we were coming but, he had forgotten to mention to them what kind of vehicle that we would be driving.

When we seen the blinking light and pulled into the yard a guy came from the side of the house and stood by the backdoor. We could clearly see that he had a pistol in his hand. He looked at us for a second and then bumped the butt of the pistol against the door a few times. My black friend slowly got out of the truck and went over to the guy on the back porch. We sat in nervous silence as we watched him enter the house while the guy with the gun continued to eyeball the truck. My friend came out of the house about 20 mins later and then we got on interstate 75 and began to heads towards Florida.

The truck was not equipped with the controls that I needed to drive with so, my 2 friends took turns in driving. I sat in the middle so I controlled the radio for the trip; a little rock, rap and country. I was also the guy that had to buy all the gas and rented the truck,( sucked on gas mileage). I maxed out my credit cards buying the gas and most of the food for the trip.

My two friends did not talk or hangout with each other because of skin color. So hearing their conversation, mixed with a little smoking, made for a very interesting time. We passed the time by flagging down the people driving next to us on the highway and then pointed to their back tire as if they had a flat. Childish?, probably, but it was fun knowing that they had pulled over for nothing. When we were going through Atlanta my best friend was driving and reminded me that I had signed a rental contract that would allow me to drive the vehicle about 20 miles and remain in the Dayton area. The truck would have no less than a thousand miles on the odometer upon return. It did not help matters that the company wanted the truck returned to their lot back in Ohio. But my friends were going to return the truck before they went home.

I was so excited and nervous at the same time and we arrived in Florida Saturday evening. I said my goodbyes to my two friends knowing that I would probably never see either of them again. We all stayed in contact by phone for awhile before we all lost contact. The truck rental company called me the next day and were upset because I had my friends lock the keys in the truck when they returned it and the renters had to hire a locksmith to get the truck unlocked. I could not believe that the company did not have an extra set of keys for the truck. I explained to the man what had happened and that it was not a planned trip. I had to pay the bill for the locksmith to open the door but to this day I have not been able to pay the bill for the penalty fee that they

charged me for each additional mile.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Discovering Your Own Lifespan

PAPER I HAD WRITTEN FOR A COLLEGE COURSE THAT I WAS TAKING, HUMAN DEVELOPMENT.

Discovering Your Own Lifespan

I have made many choices that have impacted my life in a major way and one of the most recent was my move to Florida. I moved here in 05 and was fortunate enough to experience my first four hurricanes I had moved here from Ohio where I had lived all my life. I am from the Dayton area, born and raised. I came to Florida to visit and meet my father for the first time in my life. He asked me if I would move down to Florida so that we could get to know each other. He gave me permission to live at his place until I got my own. It was an exciting time for me as it felt like I was going to start my life over. I was currently living around a rough environment that was full of drugs. I had dropped out of college and at that time didn't have a car or job. My life was not going anywhere at the time, so making the decision for a new start was not a hard choice for me to make. After I had moved here, I did not know how to adjust with family life. He and his wife were constantly arguing and I always felt as if I were the cause of their arguments. His wife kept dropping hints that she wanted me to leave and one day she gave me a deadline. She knew that I was not making enough money to get my own place but fine, whatever. One day she had called me out back and reminded me of my deadline, then she told me that her daughter's therapist had agreed that my living there was contributing to her daughter's bad grades in school. Um, ok! I threw my clothes in my car and drove away.

I remember how hot the first two summers were and how I thought that I would never get used to the heat. I had to take two showers a day because I was sweating so bad and did not want to stink. Then I experienced driving thru my first rainfall here in Florida. The rain falls straight down here. It is so humid in this state with no cooling breeze unless it is about to storm or it is winter time. I have noticed a big difference in the change in the climate here compared to Ohio. When I had first visited here in October, I remembered chuckling to myself at the sight of seeing people in Florida walking around wearing sweaters and coats. Now that I have been here for a few years, I find myself having to turn on the heater every time that the temperature drops below 65. The humidity of the climate here in Florida does not allow my arthritis to mess with me as much. My body does not ache as bad as it did when I lived in the Ohio climate however, sometimes I have asthma attacks and it becomes harder to breathe.

I have made a few friends since coming to Florida and I would say that my social life has changed but, it is hard to say whether it has changed for the better or for the worst. I am changing my ways and I can tell that I am growing up but part of me feels as if I do not belong in these surroundings. I look around and do not see any older cars or beat up houses and the occassional pile of debri, to show that the area is real and that it is lived in.

My life has had many twist and turns and I know that it is not going to straighten out anytime soon but, I have proven to myself that I am a survivor. I know that many changes are taking place n the world today, I am just hoping that no one that I care about has to come to the lonely, dark place where I have been stuck for so long. But hey, I am done crying about it and now I am just trying to make it better.

Sunday, May 31, 2009