Stuck on the ferry with a know-it-all, Peter Sherwood laments the tedious torture of being on crutches
Recent illness left me shambling on crutches. Hobbling onto the ferry, a stiff academic type sidled up to me, “Crutches, eh?”. Admitting the accuracy of his observation, I congratulated him on his perspicacity. Sitting, uninvited next to me I was clearly about to get educated on medical equipment.
Now, I’ve been rendered comatose by professional bores, some who have represented their country at the Soporific Games, and I sniffed that this bloke was ready for the Monotonous Hall of Fame. I searched for the distraction of my phone while bracing for the inevitable lecture. “Most people don’t think much about crutches. You see, the crutch dates back to the time of the pharaohs with a carving around 3,000 BC… originally a T-shaped design…” I searched frantically for something to read, but my eyes had already glazed over as I counted the seconds to Central. “…catering to the needs of…”
He laboured on, while I fantasised about shoving one of my shiny aluminum devices down his neck – broad end first. “The supportive crutch is not widely understood. You will be interested to learn that hand-carved crutches were used by one John Mosby during the American Civil War and lie in a special crutch museum. Mosby said, ‘These crutches were first used in August 1863 when I went home wounded’. And I bet you didn’t know that General Robert E. Lee said to him, ‘The only fault I have with you Colonel Mosby, is that you are always getting wounded.’” I admitted I didn’t. “And few people know that back in 1919 one Emile Schilick patented the first commercially produced crutch, for the needs of soldiers returning from World War One. Now, isn’t that interesting?” Please, someone, kill me now.
“…Then came the height adjustable frame designed by A.R. Loftstrand Jr, a little-known piece of history…” If I concentrated it might be possible to stop breathing. “It may surprise you that crutches have an alternative use,” he said chuckling, “they are ideal for poking people to get attention, ha ha ha, that was a joke, get it?” Maybe if I could gain enough leverage, I could smash the instrument into his dreary teeth.
Gritting mine, I said, “My only image of crutches is Long John Silver in Treasure Island famously hopping around on one with a parrot on his shoulder.” He stopped, looking startled. “Well, I’ve never heard of that, sounds like fiction to me.” One possibility was to drive my device into an ear of this banausic bore and gleefully watch it emerge the other side. He droned on, “Of course, there is the tale of Charles Dickens’ Tiny Tim on a crutch in A Christmas Carol, but that is not a true story. Still, it is fascinating to imagine what type of crutch he used.” I said, “Absolutely fascinating, intensely interesting, riveting, gripping and engrossing. Enthralling, exciting and uniquely absorbing. I must acknowledge that never have I been so swept up and carried away by such a compelling story.” “Yes, I knew you would be intrigued.”