Bev Clifford
[Editor's Note: It's always a pleasure to read SVCB IN TOUCH, the newsletter of the Silicon Valley Council of the Blind, edited by Susan Glass and crew.
The August issue contained the following delightful article by Bev Clifford. BC readers will remember her article "Touching Childbirth", BC Fall, 2012,
which not only won a CCB award as best lifestyle article of 2012, but received ACB's Ned E. Freeman award for writing excellence at the ACB convention
in 2013. And what does WAM stand for you ask? According to Bev, Mike Keithley thought up this whimsical column "The World According To Me" in which all
manner of entities get their say.]
The World According to Me
Hello! You don't know me, so let me introduce myself: I'm Bev's Cane. And no, I'm not going to be telling you a Bible story, in spite of what you may have
gleaned from the title of this piece. You may be thinking to yourself, Hmmmm: I haven't seen Bev's Cane around much lately--maybe I've never seen it at
all. And you'd be right: I spend most of my days relaxing, just hanging out in her hall closet among the coats and sweaters of all seasons, while Bev uses
her Black Lab Chami as a guide. Not a very interesting way for me to live, you say? Well, that may be true, but from time to time I have another invaluable
role to play that will just floor you, although it is not the job usually allotted to my species.
Take last Tuesday for instance. Bev's in her kitchen preparing brunch to eat out on her patio. It's a rather gusty but pleasant mid-summer day, late-morning,
and Bev has just removed a banana from one of those flimsy plastic bags that fruit is often stored in. Placing the banana on a tray, she carelessly lays
the bag on her kitchen counter, intending to toss it in the trash momentarily. But as she reaches up to get a bowl and a mug from her cupboard, the wind
capriciously (and I believe with malice of forethought) picks up her bag and whisks it away, depositing it somewhere on the floor, most likely either in
the kitchen or the dining room, but perhaps even farther afield in the larger expanse of hallway and entryway. "Aaaahhhh!" Bev shrieks in a most unladylike
and inarticulate manner. (I know, she's usually more creative in her speech and more poised in her behavior, but I swear to you that what I say is absolutely
true.) "RATS!" another screech, and then silence. I can jus
t hear her thinking: How can I find that wayward bag before Chami grabs it?--that's what she's saying to herself. (I can imagine this, because I'm a very
smart cane.) So I think to myself, How will she search for said bag? Normally when she loses something, here's what she does--and I'm not making this up,
I'm really not!
First, if the object makes a noise when it hits the floor, she literally dives toward it as fast as she can, following the sound to locate it before the
noise stops. If she's lucky, she can get her hands on it before it skitters across the floor. (She does NOT want it to escape before she can capture it,
thus the unceremonious dive.) But if the object falls to the floor soundlessly, she has to employ another tried-and-true strategy. She sits down on the
floor (hopefully her floor is clean and she isn't wearing her Sunday best), she spreads out both arms and both legs to encompass as wide an area of the
floor as possible, and then--get this!--she begins scooting all over the floor, reaching--reaching still further--with all four limbs and with all her
intense concentration. And in many cases, if she has picked the right area to scoot around in, one of those bodily appendages will encounter the lost item.
What a sight she is to behold! But needs must, as they say; and if it wor
ks, then who am I to scoff?
This business is the worst-case scenario, however, because that plastic bag flitted away with absolutely no noise at all, and her undignified scooting
technique will most likely get her nowhere because the blasted thing could be anywhere in a rather large area. So Bev's little brain prods her to take
another tack. Enter Yours Truly, her trusty-dusty Cane!: Now I come into my own, now I fulfill my destiny! Stepping smartly to the closet, Bev reverently
removes me from my hook in the back corner, extracting me through the coats and sweaters toward the light of the outside world. Caressing me lovingly,
she begins sliding me carefully and strategically in front of her as she wends her way from the entryway through the hallway toward the dining room and
into the kitchen. I, her seldom-used but all-important Cane, will now en-ABLE her to find the dratted plastic bag! We journey slowly around, while my amazing
ball tip glides effortlessly (and oh-so-gracefully) to and fro across the
floor, until at long last and after a pains-taking search--swish!, crackle!--I find it! I am now touching the target! Gleefully Bev bends and retrieves
the bag, and we march merrily toward the trash bin in triumph, where that little bag will finally meet its maker. Bev is happy because she won't have to
worry about Chami getting sick from ingesting plastic, and her husband Vic won't get annoyed by coming home to find tiny, moist pieces of plastic all over
the house. And I, Bev's indispensable, irreplaceable Cane, have once again saved the day by allowing her to be ABLE to find another lost thing. Three cheers
for me!
