Ever since falling down the stairs, I look at steps differently. Steps, stairs - really, almost any non-ramped elevation.
There's a picture of Obama walking down what looks like ten million steps, some time around the inauguration. I look at it and think 'man, where's the handrail? What if he slips - there's nothing to grab onto, nothing to stop him from just going.' I was just looking at a picture of a man who'd climbed to the top of a mountain in Japan, standing at the peak, looking out, and I thought 'Boy, that doesn't look very safe, what if he slips, can he at least throw himself toward something that isn't a cliff or a slippery set of rocks and pebbles that'd love to ease him all the way down?'
Thinking this way may keep me safe, but it makes me feel old. So, what the hell -- I bought myself a cane. Excuse me: a walking stick.
2 comments:
But have you decked it out with bicycle tassles and a horn yet?? At the least it needs a bumper sticker...
If I had a dollar for every time I've fallen down stairs I bet I could make a hefty down payment on a new home (preferably one that's not multi-level...)
Hmm....how classy would that look? Pretty neat, I'm thinking...
It wasn't the fall per se that smashed my hip, it was the sudden stop at the wall that's two feet from the bottom of the stairs.... still, I'd just as soon not do it again.
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