Just reading the opening grafs I flashed back to one summer when I was taking a course in writing healthcare materials for low literacy levels. It was held at a small (somewhat stark) college near Portland , Maine , which was also hosting a high school football camp and some Elder Hostel activities.
All three groups shared the cafeteria facilities for breakfast and lunch. (Come dinner time I bolted to nearby boîtes for seafood and white wine.) Now, the beefed up tackles and halfbacks were boisterous, but generally well-behaved.
But God help you if you got between one of the Elder Hostiles and his bran flakes. They had no compunction whatsoever about shoving you out of the way.
I shudder to think what that experience would be like if they’d known about this form of exercise.
For the record, I do not own a cane. However I do possess a blackthorn walking stick, given me by a gentleman caller on the occasion of my graduation from college. He’s a Sherlockian, and the stick is similar to that carried by Dr. James Mortimer in The Hound of the Baskervilles.
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