All posts by JamieJordan

What It’s Really Like When Somebody Else Dresses You Every Morning

The first thing I feel every morning is somebody else’s hands on my body.

I tell them the plan. They tell me what they’ve got. Everything after that is negotiation.

Most people picture a clean transaction. I have cerebral palsy. I hire help. They show up, do the job, and I stay in charge. The disability rights crowd even has nice language for it. I’m the employer. I direct the work.

In reality, my entire day runs on somebody else’s schedule. When they walk through the door decides when I get out of bed. What they’re comfortable doing decides what I actually get to do. I might get one morning a week where things go exactly the way I want. The other six, I’m working around them.

Everybody assumes that because I’m paying them, they do things my way. They don’t. When you need this much help, you learn real quick which battles actually matter and which ones you let go. Fighting every single thing just makes them quit.

I’ve been trying to find consistent help for six months now. The applications are long, the pay isn’t great, and nobody wants to work from 7 AM to 11:30 at night. If I land somebody reliable, it’ll be by the grace of God. There’s no other explanation that makes sense.

I’ve been in this body for 47 years. I know it better than any aide ever will. But knowing exactly what I want doesn’t mean I get it. I get whoever showed up that day.

These aren’t extras. Deodorant after a shower. Clean sheets. Making sure the back door is locked. That’s the job. I shouldn’t have to say any of it more than once, and after I say it, I shouldn’t have to think about it again.

Every attendant skimps on something different. One is great about the deodorant, but loose on the sheets. Another locks the door without being asked, but does everything else their own way. They just don’t live here, so they don’t see what I see every single day.

And yeah, almost every single one has either climbed into my chair when I’m not in it or reached over and grabbed the joystick to park me where they think I need to be. My chair. My joystick. Because from where they’re standing it’s just easier.

When you need this much help, other people’s instincts are always in the room with you.

I’ve learned to let most of it go. The joystick. The sheets. The back door. You pick your battles when the alternative is starting over. And honestly? It could be worse. I haven’t hired anybody yet who wants to dress me like Steve Urkel. I’m pretty sure I’d look terrible in suspenders.

Building Grok Agents from My Parents’ Kitchen Table: Why Caregiving Flakes Are Fueling My Robot Future

Over the last week I’ve been building custom AI agents with Grok — even while working from just my cell phone.

Right now I’m at my parents’ house. The reason is simple: My caregiver is out of town for spring break, which forced me to spend the full week here instead of managing things from home.

The timing at least worked out well — it landed right on my dad’s 71st birthday, so we’re getting to celebrate together. That said, if I had reliable support available, my strong preference would have been to stay in my own space this week and keep my normal workflow going. I would have simply made a day trip over for the birthday instead of packing up for the entire week. But without backup options, that independence wasn’t on the table.

Working here has been a clear reminder of the gap between how most people use technology and how it feels for me. I’m limited to my phone with no access to my normal computer setup. While plenty of people live on their phones, it’s a very different experience when you don’t have the manual dexterity to hold one comfortably. Right now the phone sits on the table in front of me because trying to grip it for long stretches isn’t feasible. The small screen and awkward angle put real strain on my neck after a while, and the WiFi here has been spotty at best. I can make it work, but it’s far from optimal.

This is the exact pattern I’ve been talking about in recent posts. Despite multiple people applying for caregiving roles, follow-through has been almost nonexistent. Weekend coverage, short-term help, emergency backup — it all falls through at the critical moment.

That’s precisely why I’m so energized about where robotics is headed. Early home models like the [1X NEO Gamma] are already heading to early adopters later this year, while Tesla’s [Optimus]  ( Yo Elon, can I be a product tester? I’m available and ready to train!) is ramping production in 2026, and others are close behind. Sure, those first versions will need regular recharging, their skills will be limited at the start, and the complete setup I’m picturing is still a few years away — I understand that completely. But mechanical assistance that shows up reliably, follows instructions without flaking, and handles physical tasks consistently would change everything for someone in my position.

And here’s what has me even more excited right now: the custom agents I’m building with Grok this week. These aren’t generic chat responses. They focus on specific tasks, remember my exact preferences, and adapt to my workflow. One helps keep my writing style consistent — even when drafting full articles from my phone after seeing just a few examples. Another creates custom images that match my vision for the blog perfectly. And another brainstorms practical income ideas that fit my life, turning them into step-by-step plans I can actually use. The reusability is powerful. The same agent can shift between these tasks without losing context or forcing me to repeat instructions. This turns AI into a reliable everyday partner that multiplies what I can get done.

Even from this temporary setup, I’ve been able to keep momentum going on multiple projects. That’s the bridge I’m building today. While the search for human caregiving help remains difficult, the combination of advanced robotics for physical support and intelligent, memory-driven agents for writing, visuals, and income generation is going to create a level of independence I can actually count on.

I’m sitting here at my parents’ place, phone on the table, dad turning 71, and still making real progress. The frustration of limited options hasn’t disappeared, but the excitement about what’s coming has only grown stronger.

Progress doesn’t wait for perfect circumstances. I’m using the tools already available to prepare for the ones that will transform daily life. And I can’t wait to see how it all comes together.

The Real Reason People With Real Skills on Disability Benefits Don’t Jump at High-Paying Remote Jobs (Even When They Could)

Picture this. Someone has a degree and 20 years of solid experience. Their body doesn’t cooperate with a regular office setup — transportation is limited, adaptive equipment costs a fortune, and every day comes with its own set of challenges. Remote work sounds like the perfect fit: work from your own space, on your own schedule, when your brain and body allow.

But the small gigs quickly show why they’re not the answer. Four $200 contracts add up to $800 gross a month. After self-employment taxes, chasing payments, tracking hours across platforms, and filing the mandatory Social Security Administration report by the 10th of the next month, you’re lucky to clear $600–$650 net. And if the total hours across those gigs hit just 81 in one month? You get harshly punished by losing one of nine precious trial work periods — where you can earn any amount and still keep your full SSDI check. And after those 9 months are used up, buckle up because the rules get much stricter.

People in this spot say the same thing over and over: The small stuff isn’t worth it. And the bigger, better-paying remote roles? For people like me, those feel even scarier.

Those better-paying remote jobs actually exist right now

These are senior-level roles that match someone with two decades of experience. As of February 2026, the numbers look like this (sourced from current salary data on Built In):

These are single-client contracts or W-2 roles — not four scattered gigs. One solid one at that level can actually cover the real costs of disability: a wheelchair at $20,000 retail, a modified vehicle at $70,000, all of it getting more expensive every year.

The scheduling reality that makes a traditional 9-to-5 impossible

Here’s where it gets real for a lot of people. Someone on Texas’ CLASS waiver program (the state’s in-home Medicaid waiver that pays for necessary daily therapies like massage and physical therapy) might need fixed appointments just to stay functional — massage therapy four times a week or two hours in a standing frame four days a week. These aren’t optional or fun; they’re necessary to manage pain, circulation, and mobility.

The problem isn’t just the person’s schedule. The massage therapist has her own life, her own clients, her own family. If she can only come at 10 a.m. on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, a standard 9-to-5 office job (even remote but with fixed meetings) creates conflicts that no one can easily shift. The same goes for other in-home supports. The CLASS program is flexible in theory, but the providers’ availability isn’t.

A high-paying remote role with core hours that overlap those appointments can quickly turn into an impossible juggling act. If a job is lost, actual survival demands immediacy — reapplications, medical reviews, possible gaps in coverage.

Why the system makes this feel like a trap

The rules were written decades ago for people who were either totally unable to work or heading back to full-time factory jobs. They weren’t designed for 2026 remote knowledge work, where someone can deliver serious value on their good days and need real flexibility on the bad ones.

Social Security requires reporting every dollar of earnings every month because the agency is terrified of overpayments. In fiscal year 2025 they recorded approximately $9.3 billion in overpayments alone (see the official SSA FY 2025 Agency Financial Report: https://www.ssa.gov/finance/2025/Full%20FY%202025%20AFR.pdf). They want to know immediately so they don’t have to chase money back later. It protects the system, but it freezes capable people who could be earning real money from home.

Texas Medicaid adds its own layer. Cross certain income or asset lines without the right planning and coverage can drop until things get spent down. No automatic “good job for trying” safety net.

This hits home for a lot of people. In my own case, I genuinely love to work. I already have a small job that Social Security knows about, but because of how the rules are structured, it doesn’t pay much. To satisfy that workaholic part of me, I do a lot of volunteer work, run this blog, and host the Gaming Uncensored Podcast (with possibly another one coming) — none of which brings in any money. Like everyone else, I could really use the extra income for normal life stuff: the house, the vehicle, everyday bills, helping family, and trying to develop the next big idea that might actually change things.

The system is so complicated and convoluted that I couldn’t have put together a post like this even a year ago without spending dozens of dedicated hours researching everything (Thanks Grok.). My last several posts have all been about trying to figure out how to become a truly functional, independent member of society.

If it’s this hard for me, I can’t imagine how much harder it must be for people who have even less control over their bodies and daily circumstances. It would be far easier to just coast, take what the government says you’re worth, constantly struggle with caregivers because the base pay isn’t enough, and spend all your energy just trying to maintain a semi-comfortable life.

Bottom line

The current setup does not encourage someone with real skills to test high-paying remote work. It turns every decent opportunity into a potential minefield. Small gigs multiply the headache for pennies. Big remote roles exist, pay enough to matter, and could actually improve quality of life. But the unknown risk of losing the job and restarting the benefits circus keeps too many talented people on the sidelines.

Me? I’m rolling along the sidelines wanting to jump in the game — but the ref won’t stop blowing his whistle.

I have the mind, the education, and the drive — I just need a system that doesn’t punish me for trying.

Gaming Uncensored Episode 501: Sony’s Packed State of Play & Xbox Corporate Shakeup

I’m trying something a little different today and cross-promoting the podcast here as well. Let me know what you guys think about this. It has taken 20 years, but I’m finally starting to (slightly understand) this social media thing.

Gaming Uncensored Episode 501 is available right now.

Jamie and Tommy break down Sony’s packed State of Play and the massive corporate shakeup at Xbox.

Full episode embedded below:

Show notes: https://gaminguncensored.com/gu/2026/02/25/episode-501-show-notes/

Listen on: Apple Podcasts  https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/gaming-uncensored/id73330951?i=1000751683488

Spotify https://open.spotify.com/episode/4Ws6r2Q9bK5V0jCon6kj4X?si=7a9242f342324621

Or your favorite podcast app. If we’re not on it, tell us and we’ll fix it.

We’ve been doing this unfiltered for 21 years. More episodes at gaminguncensored.com.

The Divorce Lawyer Video That Expresses Why I Work So Hard To Make Something Of Myself

I posted this on X earlier today:

This is a really interesting interview. What makes it interesting doesn’t have a lot to do with divorce. As a man with cerebral palsy, I struggle with a lack of control in my life and figuring out who I am when I have to rely on others as much as I do. I’ve never been good at relationships. I rarely feel like I have accomplished enough to be worthy of anybody.

@StevenBartlett & James Sexton had a thought-provoking conversation that will keep my mind busy for a while. Definitely worth your time.

At first glance the thumbnail and title scream classic clickbait divorce drama — cheating, breakups, the usual spicy stuff. That’s not what the video is about at all.

The real conversation between Steven Bartlett and James Sexton (one of America’s top divorce lawyers) is a raw, two-hour look at how childhood shapes our ability to ask for help, surrender control, and believe we’re worthy of being truly seen and loved.

I have a really good family. Mom and Dad are still happily married after almost 50 years. I have a great brother and sister. I got a solid education. God has taken care of me my entire life — I’m not saying my life is bad, far from it.

But from a very young age, I knew I was meant for something great. Every time I close my eyes, I still see myself sitting in front of large crowds, speaking and performing. When I was 15, I was convinced I would graduate high school and drop a comedy record that would make me a household name. I’ve always believed I was supposed to be a rockstar. Now I’m 46 — more than halfway through my life — and none of that has happened yet. I’m still trying to figure out how to make any of it real.

I’ve always had a crystal-clear sense of my purpose. The problem is I rarely have the control or resources to actually execute the vision. When so much of your daily existence depends on other people simply showing up, it becomes incredibly difficult to feel worthy of real connection. How do you fully show up for someone else when you never really know what tomorrow is going to look like? How do you work towards being the person you want to be, professionally and financially, when you are constantly working around someone else?  Success isn’t necessary for relationships and connection in life, but stability is extremely necessary for intimacy with another human. If I am dating someone, they shouldn’t also have to worry about being my caregiver, especially in the beginning.

My parents are creeping up on their 70s, and I still have to ask them for help. In a couple of weeks, my main caregiver, Peyton, is going on vacation with his girlfriend during spring break. If I don’t find someone reliable to replace him in the next couple of weeks, I may have to go stay with my parents again.

This is exactly why a reliable, intelligent companion like Moya, powered by Grok (that I discussed in a previous post), isn’t just about convenience for me. It’s about finally having enough physical independence that I can show up as a whole person instead of someone whose entire day can fall apart if one caregiver doesn’t show.

The video didn’t fix anything, but it named the feeling I’ve carried for decades.

If you’ve ever felt stuck between being deeply grateful for what you have and still wrestling with how much you have to rely on others, drop it in the comments.

No More Waiting for Caregivers: Why a Robot Like Moya + Grok Could Change Everything for Me

I’ve been dealing with unreliable caregivers for years. It’s not a new story—post a job on Indeed, get a few applicants, maybe even hire someone… and then the no-shows start. Shifts get canceled at the last minute, people ghost, or they don’t show up at all. For someone with cerebral palsy who relies on help for transfers, daily routines, and basic independence, that inconsistency isn’t just inconvenient. It can leave you literally stuck—stuck in bed, stuck waiting, stuck losing hours (or days) of your life to something that shouldn’t be this hard.

Last night, I saw a short video about a new humanoid robot called Moya, developed by the Shanghai-based company DroidUp. Watch it here:

When I watched that clip, one thought hit me immediately: Give me that humanoid build, powered by Grok as the brain, and I never have to fear getting stuck in bed again.

Here’s why this form factor feels right for long-term caregiving, at least for me:

  • Reliability 24/7 — No sick days, no family emergencies, no “I’m running late.” An AI-powered robot doesn’t call in. It’s always there, ready when I wake up, ready at 3 a.m. if I need repositioning, ready to help with transfers without complaint or fatigue.
  • Personalization through AI — Pairing hardware like Moya’s with something like Grok (or a future Grok-powered system from xAI) means the “brain” could learn my specific needs. My cerebral palsy is pretty unique—no major complications beyond the mobility piece—so training would have to be hyper-specific: how I like to be lifted, my preferred hand placements, my routines for getting dressed, eating, gaming, recording podcasts. A general-purpose robot wouldn’t cut it; it needs to adapt to me, not force me to adapt to it.
  • Natural presence — The goal isn’t a clunky industrial machine that draws stares or makes people uncomfortable.(I deal with enough of that already, and if people are going to look, I want them to see something cool and approachable) Moya’s design leans toward something that blends in—human proportions, fluid movement, expressive face. In public, it could walk beside me without screaming “robot bodyguard.” People already know I’m loud and outgoing (on purpose), because I’m trying to put people at ease), but I don’t want more fear or awkwardness added to the mix just because of a hunk of tech next to me. A companion-like form factor keeps things feeling normal, not sci-fi dystopian.

This isn’t about replacing human connection—I still want friends, family, laughs, and real conversations. It’s about solving the practical gap: consistent, on-time, judgment-free help for the basics so I can actually live more of the life I want. More time for stand-up, DJing, gaming, streaming, ministry, whatever. Less time worrying if today’s caregiver will actually show.

I’ve been trying to get this kind of input in front of Elon and the xAI/Tesla/Optimus team for months because I think people with disabilities like mine have real, high-value data to offer for training. We’re not edge cases; we’re the use cases that prove whether these systems are truly helpful or just hype.

For now, I’m still refreshing Indeed and hoping for better luck. But videos like Moya’s remind me the future isn’t as far off as it sometimes feels. A reliable, intelligent, human-friendly assistant? Yeah—somebody call me because I’m your guy and I’m ready to go to work.

What do you think? If you’re reading this and have thoughts (or connections!), drop a comment or hit me up on X (@manonwheels). The conversation has to start somewhere.

I Have A Lazy Boy everywhere I Go

People get nervous in public when they see a guy in a power chair, taking it easy
Reclining is not always about comfort.

One thing most people don’t know is that power wheelchairs can recline — and when you’re out in public, that feature tends to draw a lot of attention.

Reclining isn’t for relaxation. It’s often necessary for medical reasons, pressure relief, or pain management. But when people see me reclined outdoors — even on completely level ground — the most common question I get is:
“Are you okay?”

This comic, “Finding My Angle,” comes from those moments. It gives a glimpse into what it’s like when a normal part of my day looks unusual to everyone else.
I’m creating more of these comics to help people understand experiences they might be curious about but aren’t sure how to ask. Humor makes those conversations easier and more human.
I’d love your thoughts:
Comments and shares welcome
hashtagAccessibility hashtagWheelchairLife hashtagDisabilityAwareness hashtagAssistiveTechnology hashtagInclusion hashtagRepresentationMatters hashtagStorytelling hashtagComics hashtagAdaptiveTech hashtagPerspective hashtagHumanExperience hashtagCreativity

When Superman can’t help someone it’s worse than Kryptonite

I don’t really have daily stress like most people. I have lived most of my life not sweating the small stuff. Clothes, hair, work, any aspect of my personal life I don’t worry about because whatever happens, I’m going to be fine.

Where I struggle is worrying about other people. Specifically those close to me. One of my favorite TV shows is The Blacklist on NBC. Mostly because of the main character Raymond Reddington, played by one of my favorite actors, James Spader. 

Raymond is known as the concierge of crime.  Basically, If you are a criminal with a Problem Raymond has the resources and connections to make your problems go away.

Raymond is this flamboyant man in a fedora who has all the answers. if he doesn’t have the answers, he will find someone who does. This is how I have seen myself for most of my life. I get crazy satisfaction out of solving people’s problems.

Image from https://www.hypeandstyle.fr/en/raymond-reddington-sunglasses/

I don’t really like to admit this but there are many aspects of my life that I can’t control. I don’t decide when I go to bed at night or when I get up in the morning. I can’t get up at 3 a.m. to go to the restroom without waking someone else up for help. Simple things that most people take for granted every day. I deal with this frustration by trying to help someone every day.  it may be a kind word,  a few bucks,  or a gift they didn’t expect. I’m always doing something for somebody because that’s how I cope. 

I have wanted to be the Raymond Reddington character my whole life, (Not the criminal obviously) but a man with unlimited resources who could go anywhere at any time with the ability to solve any problem. As early as 14 I thought I was going to be famous, with the ability to write my own ticket and help whoever I pleased. 

I’m 42, and while I’m more famous than most people, thanks to a podcast and an attention-seeking personality, I’m not really where I had hoped to be at this point in my life.  I’m okay with it most days. My life is good, I have a great family and I’m blessed In ways that most people can only dream of. 

That said, In the last few months I have watched friends and people who are close to me struggle in life and I haven’t been able to help. I want to get on the private jet I’m supposed to have and go save the day.  Not being able to is really hard for me to handle. I feel powerless. That is not something I’m accustomed to feeling. It’s not a good feeling. 

I’m writing this today because I know many of you have felt this feeling. Especially over the last year, and I want you to know you are not alone. The prayers that I pray each day have become more important than they were just a few years ago. I hate being powerless,  not having the answers, not being able to solve the problem. I keep from going crazy because I understand that someone bigger than me,   who is watching me go through what I’m going through is in charge and wants the best for me. All I have to do is hang on and do my best to help those that I want to help in small ways Until I can do more… 

The first voice on the radio

I have debated whether or not to say anything since I heard Rush Limbaugh passed a few hours ago. As I write this I’m still debating. I feel like I have to say something because I love radio. If I’m real honest, Rush was probably the first radio voice I ever heard. The reason for that was because he was on while my grandfather, uncle, father, were out doing whatever they were doing, he was on in the truck and I was there. I’m not interested in debating politics today, because it’s not really about that. Whatever your politics are, a giant in radio has passed and that’s a big deal.