Zimmerracer

The other day I was wishing Bill for his birthday, and shortly the conversation drifted along its usual path with us commiserating with each other on how we were getting older.
"Oh no," he groaned, "I'm getting so old I'll soon need to use a zimmerframe."
I didn't quite know what a zimmerframe was, but far be it from me to admit that to him. The name conjured an image of a pair of little frameless glasses that perch on the tip of the nose. In fact it sounded so much like a pair of glasses that I lured myself into an easy sense of false confidence, a sure sign of an impending downfall.
"Well I think zimmerframes look really attractive! Soon you'll be picking up all the hotties in the bars," I teased.
He looked at me quizzically.
"You don't quite know what zimmerframes are, do you?"

Turns out a zimmerframe is this four-legged walking support:

So I've been thinking some about zimmerframes recently. Mostly, there's something about their structure that's been bothering me. You see, they have wheels only on the front, and little stoppers on the back legs. I understand the security reasoning behind this, but it also means that in order to move forward, the user has to lift up the back legs before being able to roll it. Which is a ridiculous thing to ask of someone who is actually leaning on the frame for support in the first place. I've noticed several fragile, elderly people in the street suffering at the mercy of this design flaw.

Half-shuffle. Clomp. Slide. Half-shuffle. Clomp. Slide. Pause. Shuffle. Clomp. Slide.

And then yesterday I came across an old woman and was struck by her simple ingenuity. She had stuck slit tennis balls at the bottom of the back two legs of her zimmerframe. The tennis balls were just smooth and soft enough to allow her to push the zimmerframe along without having to lift it, while still providing enough friction for safe braking. So there she was, zipping (relatively) along smoothly.

Step push slide, step push slide, step push slide...

She was the Michael Schumacher of zimmer-people, making a steady way down the crowded sidewalk. For a moment, I could visualise her complete with Formula One goggles and helmet and firmly set jaw, hair whipping through the wind behind her.

I slowed down next to her to let her pass me. I thought she might feel good to overtake someone. "Go, Granny!" I silently cheered from the sidelines as she passed.