On the door of a women's room in the basement of a Denver building...

Aw, man, I really gotta go, here's a--

Are you kidding me?  I'm in the basement and I gotta make a deposit at the First Bank of Vitreous China, and here's the sign I'm given?!  [flips up middle finger] Here's my sign for you and your toilet room apartheid.  


I've been in this toilet room, and I think I know why they haven't retrofitted it.  Making a stall inside the toilet room itself wouldn't be that hard, but there's a rather circuitous path from this door to the door of the actual toilet room.  I suppose they could put automatic openers on the doors--this one and the toilet room door--but those are generally $1,000 each and require running power, etc. to the doors and possibly changing doors and door frames.  Again, we're running into the equivalent-experience thing here.


Still, though, if I had to pee and I was in a wheelchair, and I saw this sign, I'd be mighty, um, pissed.

Monday Visual Inspiration: How to know if your toilet isn't ADA accessible

Step 1: is there at least 42" clear outside your stall door? No?

Step 2: Well, are there any grab bars inside your stall, and the stall is 60" wide by 56" deep?  Not so much?

Step 3: Exit the stall.  Are you sure there isn't a path that's at least 42" wide outside your stall?  Really?

Step 4: Can you turn on the water at the sink with the equivalent of a closed fist?

At least one of the sinks, anyway?

Step 5: Is the top of the sink surface at no more than 34" off the floor, and there's clear space under the sink, and the sink apron is no more than about 6" deep, and the pipes are protected from you hitting it with your knees in a wheelchair?

Hmm, then maybe you really do need to go to the toilet room marked "accessible" in this shopping center.  This toilet room definitely doesn't meet your needs.


I see separate accessible toilet rooms in a lot of retrofitted buildings, and while I appreciate the effort, it still creeps me out that if I have even the slightest disability, I have to go to a separate room.  ADA requires that persons with disabilities have an "equivalent experience" in places like zoos, aquariums, movie theaters, and even office buildings.  They can't not be able to use the space, but they have to be able to experience all the functions and educational content, entertainment experience, etc. from whatever limited spaces they can occupy.


But what that often means in retrofitted buildings is that people in wheelchairs get a entrance on the icky-shady side of the building, or even in back.  They get a weird separate toilet room that's not always near the other toilet rooms.  They still get to enter and operate the building, and they still get to go pee, but it's not quite the same.  Like sitting in a chair isn't enough difference already, they have to go to a different entry or floor or part of the building to get their most basic needs met.  It's almost like...separate but equal.

Monday Visual Quasi-Inspiration: Cherry Creek Arts Festival 2012

The monsoons from Mexico hit Friday afternoon, just in time to cool down the Mile High City for the Cherry Creek Arts Festival.  Of course, those of you glued to the Weather Channel know that the heavy rains bring a mixed blessing to those fighting the wildfires: the rain puts out fires, but the lightning can also start blazes, plus the water sluicing over burnt ground tends to cause flash floods.  Some people never get a break, I swear...


But in the streets of Cherry Creek North, the arts were alive and well with folks showing off amazing paintings, sculptures, and mixed media works...and making a living off of selling them, no less.  Musicians kept the area humming with a stream of live performances, and the food vendors perfumed the neighborhood with spices and hickory smoke from their outdoor grilles.  I got some holiday shopping done ahead of time, and I also realized that I was really rested after a three-day weekend...rested enough to go home and do some art of my own.  Here's hoping everyone takes a break this July and does something good for their souls!

The roof, the roof, the roof (and everything else) is on fire

Well, not exactly, but you get the point.  There are separate fires burning north of Denver, west of Denver, and south of Denver, and the recent record highs and lack of rain have not been helping matters. Generally here, it's been hitting 70 by 8am and then mid- to high-90s by 2pm, and humidity keeps scraping along at about 5%-15%.  (Meanwhile, Scarlett in Vegas snorts with laughter at our wah-wah-it's-so-dry-and-hot-here lamentations.)


Guy and I are safe, as we live five minutes from downtown Denver.  However, one of my coworkers had to evacuate her house while on vacation across the country.  (I don't know how she did it, but she did it.) Mostly you notice the fires here in town by smelling the air and finding a fine layer of soot/black dusty sand on everything outside...or on your floors if you left the windows open for a few hours.  I went out to swim the other morning, and it smelled like someone was having the mother of all cookouts.


So, I owe St. Blogwen the Patient and Beneficent an apology for not responding sooner re: the Gaping Maw of Burning Fury in the Mile High.  I've been writing an application on my own behalf to join a professional organization with great prestige (no, not the Masons) plus three presentation proposals to a variety of architect-y conferences.  And naturally, all of these things were due July 1st, so I spent most of June running like...well, my head was on fire.  I'm looking forward to a quiet July, but you know how well-laid plans of mice and men and pixies oft go astray. But here's hoping for some quiet time by the pool with a cheesy fashion magazine for the next few weekends in a row.

Monday Visual Inspiration: Faces of Snooze

Hazel in various states of snoozy repose early one weekday morning while I did yoga.  Whoever invented Cat Pose in yoga clearly hadn't watched a kitteh like Hazel rollrollroll around and get comfortable.

Urban bun!

This bunny hopped all the way past me and into a school playground near Cherry Creek North, where it proceeded to nomnomnom on some grass and clover.  Just a few yards from busy streets and shops and people going about their lives, this little creature (about the size of a 12-week-old kitten) was living its life the way its ancestors have for thousands of years.


Sometimes, our construction displaces wildlife.  Other times, it just makes life difficult for them, but they adapt.  Bunnies live in empty lots and tiny parks.  Foxes and their kits live in the storm sewers in nice neighborhoods.  Squirrels use power lines to get from tree to tree.  I'm not advocating that all human progress and construction is good and we shouldn't worry about the creatures, but it's nice to know that sometimes they find a way to live amongst us.  It's a furry middle finger to the so-called top of the food chain.

Monday Visual Inspiration: so close to peace...I can see it!

Living room of Death Valley Ranch in Death Valley National Park, Feb 2012

I've been working on two deadlines, CA for Gestalt's Uber MOB, and three presentation proposals for work over the past month. One deadline is behind me, another is looming, the CA is neverending, and all three presentation proposals are due on either June 30th or July 1st.  Suffice to say, I've had my work cut out for me, though I'm not so sure I've been cut out for my work.  And rumor has it that a couple of projects that went quiet in March are about to come back at 100 mph and 140 dB.


Posting will be slight for the next few weeks while I put all my energy into finishing these deadlines.  I beg your patience while I sprint/hobble/schlep towards the finish line here.