The Friday Letter 6/29/2007

Ben and April seem to have survived their Colorado visit. They're on their way home to Washington State at this moment.

We thought we might get to ride in their new electric car -- but by the time they got here from Rollinsville, passenger space was filled with souvenirs and mementos.

I didn't see where they keep the extension cord.

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There aren't many subjects in which I think of myself as an expert. This is one: The Cane. I know a lot about the need and the technique.

Since I was four years old, I've used an assortment of canes, crutches, walkers, braces, walking casts, wheelchairs and handrails.

After I recovered from infantile paralysis at age 12, I didn't use any mobility assistance devices except special footwear for about 25 years.

(You don't really "get well" from polio. But back in 1954, we all thought I was well enough to throw away the crutches.)

In 1979, I went to an orthopedic surgeon because of chronic pain in my right hip.

The sawbones looked at the X-rays, prescribed "Naprosyn," (now known as naproxin sodium) and advised me to begin using a cane at all times.

The Naprosyn helped some, and still does. The cane was the true miracle that came from that doctor visit.

We think my diligent use of the cane has extended my ambulatory mobility for many years.

It takes a lot of the weight off my hip -- which is almost a hip-that-isn't-there, tiny like the ball and socket of a four-year-old boy.

It allows me to limp less. With a more upright posture, there's less damage to the spine and even the knees, ankles and the other hip.

Using a cane, I walk "almost normal," which is good, for me. A big benefit is that there's much less pain, and my walking range is extended by 10 times.

Every day, I see people who should be using canes. Sometimes, they just don't know, and sometimes it's an issue involving vanity.

If the word vanity describes why you don't use a cane, get over it. Buy an adjustable cane. Set it so that the top of the handle touches the heel of your hand, held naturally at your side.

Use the cane opposite the painful side. As in my case, I am "cane left" because the discomfort is "right hip."

When the appropriate footstep happens, shift some of the weight to the cane. Easy to figure out -- cane left, step right. Or, cane right, step left.

Don't even consider the "four-tip" cane. It will fall over almost as often as a single tip cane, and you're a lot more likely to trip over it.

You're not old enough to begin using a cane? Balderdash. Aging is one thing that happens to our walking ability, but younger people need assistance too.

Don't make the mistake of using a cane just when something hurts. Using a cane regularly can drastically reduce the overall amount of pain, by reducing new damage.

Several "novelty'' canes have been given to me over time. I like to look at them once in a while, but decorative canes are practically useless.

Don't be tempted by the ''walking stick'' --that's for Ivanhoe to use while strolling through Sherwood Forest. Use a cane with a broad handle. Skinny ones cause damage (hence different pain) to the hand. Pads are o.k. if you like.

Be sure the tip is in good condition and rubbery enough to grip the ground or floor firmly. Use special care on wet or icy surfaces -- if you're used to a cane and it goes away, down you will go. (Voice of many experiences.)

The cane can also be a defense weapon -- so far, you don't have to have a license to carry one. (There are dogs around here with lumps on their heads.)

Don't be a buffoon. Get your hat on frontways (refer to 6/22/07), get a cane, and use it.

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I really did enjoy being a child. Playing with toy construction equipment, wading in black mud up to my waist, riding a bicycle full tilt into the side of a barn.

But I prefer being a man. I don't have to wear short pants, and I don't have to go to go to baby showers.

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If I ever learn how to work "E-Bay," the first thing I'm going to do is trade my handicapped parking permit for a concealed carry permit.

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Oxymoron of the week: Drink Responsibly.

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"Big Iron," Keith Robinson's 1987 Peterbilt 357, now has a Real Leather Co. custom sewn leather steering wheel. The red and white truck has more than 3,000,000 (that's three million) miles on it.

Keith rebuilt the engine, transmission, body, wiring, plumbing and interior by himself in his own shop.

He likes the wheel we refinished for him because it is a three-spoke. The new replacement from Peterbilt had four spokes -- some of which blocked the view of the gauges.

It took us seven months to design and install the leather cover.

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Definition of a dwarf: A guy who goes around sticking his nose in other people's business.

Definition of a giant: A guy who goes around sticking his business in other people's noses.

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Word of the week: Expatriate.

Webster's New Collegiate says: 1. To drive a person from his native land; exile. 2. To withdraw oneself from one's native land. Synonym: banish.

Interesting. South and Central Americans are willing to die trying to move here to the U.S.

Some people who have the birthright of U.S. citizenship move to the South Pacific and thumb their noses at those of us who remain. Go figure.