My 90-year-old father has two canes: a serviceable wooden one, dented and scratched, but good for poking elevator buttons even when we ask him not to, and frequently used when he wants to point suddenly in one direction or another, totally unaware of the heads swerving out of the way of a guaranteed concussion. And then there's his "fancy cane." About five years ago, I bought him a beautiful Brazos Free Form Twisted Hickory Walking Cane. He loved it! It was cool, and casual, and just the kind of cane you'd want to be seen with, if you needed one to amble about your business. (Definitely too good for poking elevator buttons.) About a week after he happily received it, when he was shopping at Target with the cane slung over the cart, someone stole it. Who steals a cane from an old man? Somebody not very nice, that's who.
He was pretty upset about it. Well, he was pretty freaking mad, actually. Italian mad, if you know what I mean. I was, too, mainly because he was so crushed about the experience. Still, I said all the right things, like "Maybe the person who took it didn't have any other way to get one, and they were desperate." But we both knew they took it because it was cool. Damn those fancy canes sitting right out there in public! It's like a great leather jacket in an unmanned coat-check at a club.
I got him another one just like the first one, but my father is a once-burned, twice-shy kind of fellow, so it only comes out for the good stuff. The old, scruffy cane gets used in Maryland, but when he visits my sister in California, that state is worthy of the hand-carved version. So are visits to doctors, and certain restaurants.
But Target - nah, Target will never see that hickory stick again. And I'm kind of glad he's so cautious. I don't want to have too many canes attached to my order history at Amazon. It's just not cool.
© 2015 A Bit of Brie/Anitabrie
