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Grant That I May Not Criticize My Neighbor ...

. . . until I Have Walked a Mile in His Moccasins.

So says a plaque on my wall, by my desk, in my home office. In response to several Facebook threads documenting a recent visit to New York City by a dear friend of mine, Ryan Neugebauer, I received some feedback from other folks who were a bit upset that I had not done X, Y, or Z in the past with them but somehow had found a way to go on the Staten Island Ferry and see the fireworks in Coney Island with Ryan, while he was here in NYC. My response was restricted to Facebook, but I decided to post it on Notablog because as a secondary, unintended consequence, it seems to have resonated with lots of folks, especially those who deal with various disabilities and who are exhausted having to explain their constraints over and over again even to loved ones. Here is what I said on Facebook:

Folks, I'm really sorry I have to even post something like this as I don't like talking too much about my private life or its constraints, but it seems that quite a few friends have gotten upset because they saw that Lo and Behold, Chris Matthew Sciabarra was OUT OF THE HOUSE FOR ONE NIGHT and how dare I do such a thing when I've not been able to do X, Y, or Z, when asked by somebody else.
This post is not directed to any person in particular, but to the situation in general. Given the number of FB messages I've received and my inability to address every single one of them, I think this is better. For those of you who truly understand (and I know who you are... so don't even think of apologizing), no explanation is necessary. But for those who don't really know what I've gone through, even though I'm not inclined to justify one minute of my life, here it goes:
A dear friend of mine, Ryan Neugebauer, made his first trip to NYC, and on one of the nights of his visit, my sister was kind enough to drive over to Staten Island so we could take the ferry and see the skyline of NYC, and to get back in time to the see the fireworks in Coney Island. A very New York experience, indeed.
And I had a lot of fun.
But for somebody who has undergone 60+ surgeries and who talked about it extensively in a "Folks" interview (see here), it might seem odd, as I put it in my post with Ryan, that I was able to get out at all. I even remarked that "some nights they actually let me out."
I haven't been on the Staten Island Ferry since before 9/11---that's twenty years or more; I've been to about ten or so concerts or films in ten years. I am a Yankee fanatic who has yet to see the New Yankee Stadium, even though it's been open for ten years. I don't remember the last time I went to any of NYC's museums.
What it takes to get out of this apartment is nearly two days of starvation in order to ATTEMPT it, and a carefully laid-out plan that involves logistics with regard to accessibility to a restroom!
So please: Just celebrate with me for a few minutes the fact that I was able to get out one night and have a damn good time with a great friend. Anyone else who is a friend certainly knows that, unless I'm scheduled for a surgical procedure, the door is open. Which is why I have folks come through these parts to visit for a few hours at a time, AT MY HOME, which puts the least pressure on me, to have a good time with caring friends. You are no less loved because you didn't go on the Staten Island Ferry with me.
We all seem to carry crosses in life; everybody has their issues and problems. Cliches though these are, I truly can't and won't criticize my neighbor until I've walked a mile in their moccasins.
Though I'm being flattered in a way to be loved by so many, let me emphasize: Before you get all depressed that you didn't get to go on the Ferry with me, please take a look at my song of the day today: You Need to Calm Down. If you personalize the fact that I couldn't get out with any one of you on some other night, I can't do anything to help you out of your depression. Every day, every hour, changes contexts for me. And dialectical guy that I am, I have to evaluate every thing I do according to the constraints of the context of every day I live.
DO NOT FEEL SORRY FOR ME. I neither ask nor seek your pity or permission. I do the best that I can.
Having the stars align for one night of fun with one special friend is not a statement against any other special friend I have. And Lord knows I have a lot of folks here and elsewhere with whom I share very close bonds and who have been amazingly supportive, both spiritually and materially, over the years. For this, I am profoundly grateful.
But cut me some slack. Life is too short.

I added a postscript to the FB thread, because my post seems to have led in an uptick in shares on the "Folks" website of my interview from January 2018:

Thanks to everyone who has responded to this post and for all the support I received here and privately. I decided to post this comment on my own Notablog; apparently, just by including a link to the "Folks" interview here, in just four hours time, it has gone from 307 shares to 360 shares [and growing by the hour, apparently] at the Folks website. And though this post was not meant to be a public service announcement, I am happy that it may have resonated especially with those who have to deal with a disability and find special ways to cope with its constraints. Love to all...

And for the record, there are a ton of photos on Facebook of my night out with Ryan, but here are two pics of us on the Staten Island Ferry---one on the way to Manhattan, the other on the way back to Staten Island:

RyanChris1S.jpg


RyanChris2S.jpg

Ed. (10 September 2019): My FB post resulted in an uptick of "shares" on the site of "Folks", "an online magazine dedicated to telling the stories of remarkable people who refuse to be defined by their health issues." Shares increased from 307 on the day of this post to 456 today. I'm delighted that more "folks" had a chance to read the Robert Lerose-penned profile of me on that site---and if it helped or enlightened anyone, I'm very grateful.