Due to unrelenting pain in my hip, I purchased a cane yesterday. Sadly, my ever decreasing lack of mobility reduced my shopping options and I had to avail myself of the last sparkle finish cobalt blue aluminum model on the rack at CVS. Never having used one before, I was unsure whether it should function as support for the failing leg or to bolster the functioning limb. Thankfully, the internet provided some tips and I was soon hobbling on my way.
As une femme d'un certain age, neither spring chicken nor crone, this mode of locomotion elicited stares of puzzlement and served to carve a path through gamboling tweens and any others who chose to stroll three abreast or more on the sidewalk. It also guaranteed a seat on the bus and, mechanical gears willing, brought the motor coaches to their knees so I could ascend.
These circumstances sparked my imagination of how stylish one could appear with handsome walking sticks of distinction.
|Lady Admiral to you.|
|Props for propping.|
And there are tunes like, "My Walking Stick" by Louis Armstrong and The Mills Brothers.
Or "Hand Me Down My Walking Cane" presented first by The Boswell Sisters with The Dorsey Brothers.
And countrified and sweet here by Josh Graves featuring Earl Scruggs.