In which I boldly go to Target

I know Star Trek is out this weekend. But I needed things, so what can I say? I went to Target instead.

There are quite a few handicap parking spots at this Target, but just one or two that have van access. Fewer van access lanes are required, so not much to be done about that. If I get there when it's not crowded, I get a van access parking spot. Today that wasn't a problem.

But I said boldly for a reason, because there was another problem. There were a number of shopping carts and a store scooter in the hash marks, so I couldn't deploy my ramp. (I felt particularly betrayed by the scooter being left there for some reason, but it goes to show that there's an overall lack of awareness out there that some who use accessible vehicles can't physically remove scooters and shopping carts themselves.)

I tried to repark the van (within the blue lines) as far over as possible several times and finally was able to eke out enough room to get the ramp down and my chair down it. I went inside and asked them to clear the carts and scooter away.

By the time I came back out, I'm sure they had done that. There was, however, another shopping cart left right in front of where my ramp deploys.

Hey it wouldn't be boldly going if it was easy. But still it's much easier to deal with carts and other objects (even spacecraft) blocking a ramp when you're not in the van trying to get out.

While we're talking about boldly going, here's a great article on visitability in cohousing by Eleanor Smith. It's all about getting rid of those barriers.

As a wheelchair-using kid in the ‘50s, then as a house-hunting and friend-making adult in the ‘70s and ‘80s, very rarely could I go in anyone’s house except my own without a lot of planning, physical effort and social awkwardness to get up the entry steps. Once inside, I had to take care not to drink much liquid, since nearly all residential bathroom doors – including the tens of thousands being constructed at this moment – are too narrow for a wheelchair to pass through. These barriers made friendships harder to make, and also cut me off from some of the casual, vital information-sharing that goes on among people hanging out together.

Now, 10 years after that first formal meeting and 7 years after moving into the community, my visiting pattern has been transformed. The past few months have found me at Bob’s house playing Scrabble; at Lonnie’s delivering a meal when she came home from the hospital; at the Chen-Willoughby’s for a cello and piano concert; at Jenny and Jason’s for a committee meeting; at Anne’s for tea… These ordinary visits call to mind a saying some unknown disabled change-worker coined years ago: “To boldly go where everybody else has gone before.”