In my early days of cane use I was always struck by people’s reaction to the thing. I suppose wheeling along three feet or so at the back end of a white stick separates the user a bit from the norm. The adults were a study on their own – everything from polite consideration to a wariness more suited to contact with a suicide-bomb suspect – but, as ever, it’s hard to trump kids when it comes to getting to the point. Recently, over coffee on Ponsonby Road, I got a refresher from a six-year-old at the next table who decided exercising her curiosity was more fun than sitting still.
“What’s that for?” she asked, pointing at the cane. Sensing this one wouldn't buy the 'magic wand' story, I fronted up and said it stopped me falling over things. She hit straight back with an almost accusatory “Why?”. Sticking to the theory that simple was the way to go with a half-pint version of the Spanish Inquisition, I said it was because I couldn't see anything, whereupon she hit me with another “Why?”. This forced me into a muttered apologetic retreat, vowing to submit a new chapter on ‘Out of the Mouths of Babes and Innocents' in The Cynic’s Handbook.
But, as they say, the enquiring mind knows no rest and once back in the armchair, it occurred to me that perhaps 'Why?' wasn't a bad question.
