Appreciating Brilliance

Recently someone close to me bought a new vehicle.  They had been driving an older, strictly utilitarian little extended cab truck for many years, and although their make and model choice would have been more of the same, alas, it is no longer available. So they got a small, extended cab truck with some “luxury” upgrades forced on them.

The old truck had crank up windows and manual door locks.  The new one had power ones, but the thing they marvelled at the most was the height-adjustable seats.  You know those cartoons you see about an elderly driver barely able to see over their steering wheel?  That was sometimes the result of seat heights being engineered for “average male” drivers.  If you were short, you had to sit on a cushion.   In the cars I grew up with, nearly all had one-piece bench seats in front, and the driver chose how close you were to the dashboard.  If you were a tall passenger with a short driver, you sat with your knees up by your ears; if the driver was tall and you were short, you sat so far back you couldn’t even reach the glove box.  (Crazy we still call those “glove boxes.”  The only gloves ever kept in our “glove box” are my latex gloves for first aid responses.  Those dashboard compartments need a new name.)

Someone finally realized that not everyone who drives is an “average male driver,” and that people in the front seat would be much more comfortable with split seating and adjustable height driver’s seats. The average American woman is 5’4” tall, according to the Centers for Disease Control. Most women do drive now; it’s only common sense that cars should accommodate their needs as well. Thank you to the automotive engineers who finally acknowledged the issue.

Another brilliant move that I owe my back health to was the person who decided to put wheels on suitcases.  I remember my family packing for car trips and hefting heavy suitcases, walking awkwardly tilted towards the load.  Now on a trip through an airport you see no traditional suitcases, and even little kids are towing their own wheeled half-size bags.  For people with back issues, it’s a godsend. You really wonder why it took so long, but to whoever had this concept, you are a personal hero of mine!

I can think of lots of other examples of ergonomic design, but another one that is probably even more revolutionary than the first two examples in its impact are the well-engineered walkers you see everywhere. They replaced the old, upright aluminium ones my grandparents used for mobility assistance. They made a huge difference in their time, but were bulky and difficult to use on carpet. The new ones have wheels, fold up easily, have brakes and a handy seat for waiting in long lines. You can use the seat to transport things, (like a cup of tea) while having both hands on the walker to steady yourself. They handle rough surfaces and carpet without difficulty and you can attach a carrier basket to the front. They even come in snazzy colors, more cheerful than utilitarian black or bare aluminium.

The walkers release people that can still walk with some balance help from isolation at home, and facilitate a more normal social life. Being able to get a little exercise, go outdoors in nice weather and have a handy place to sit down should you tire is priceless. 

Powered chairs and scooters create yet another level of freedom. Even stores often have one or two for shoppers who have difficulty walking through the store. We have a neighbor who is paralyzed from the waist down from a roof fall. He has a pickup equipped so he can load his power chair himself, get into his truck and go anywhere he pleases unassisted, unloading his chair on arrival. How much better life has gotten for such people, because of brilliant inventions.

I’ve been looking at examples of creative design the last few weeks and it’s been an uplifting exercise. If you want to find the good, just look for it, it is all around us.

REMEMBERING DAD: Recently I remembered something my dad often did that still makes me smile. For birthdays, his kids would get a card with $10, with a note that said “spend this on something foolish.” So often a monetary gift is used to pay a bill, buy gas or some pedestrian thing – but he loved to hear that we got a toy or book; or when we were older, shared a pizza with a friend. I received many generous gifts in my life but it was his encouragement to spend it on ourselves that made his gift memorable and honored your birthday as a celebration.

I welcome commentary, alternative viewpoints or ideas at this e-mail address:  JanieTMartin@gmail.com 

Janie Thibodeau Martin