I visited BWink01 last week. Besides visiting and making new friends, I shopped at one of my favorite places, 'Outdoor World'. Man, there was everything there a hunter or shooter could want, or uh, need. And I found a few things. One thing was called a 'shooting stick'. This is used to prop your weapon when you are in a blind so as to steady it when aiming. This particular stick is about three and a half feet tall, with a wrist lanyard and a half moon rubber notch at the top to accept a rifle barrel. "This is just what I want", I thought. But the realization struck that I'd have to get it home via the airline. Now this is not a dangerous thing and not at all restricted. It is just too long to put in a bag. I was CERTAIN the authorities would have required I place it separately in baggage. I was equally certain that it would have been damaged or lost. At that point my 'midget' tugged on my sleave and handed me a note... The note read, 'use the stick as a cane'. Whuh?? What an idea! Who would argue with a guy who needs a cane? I could keep the stick with me! But as it goes with all deceptions, unseen complications ensued. On my arrival at the airport I began to affect an injured right lower extremity. I discovered when using a cane walking you must match the your stride exactly with that of the cane. I had never considered that and it took a little practice. It was the easiest hurdle I was to face. I waited in line with a pull bag, a small bag hooked on the top of that, another little carry on, and tucked under my left arm, a light winter coat. My right hand held my cane. This wasn't easy. The agent checked my bags and asked if I needed to keep the 'cane'. "Yes, it would come in handy", I said. I hobbled down the hall and up the escalator. Ahead was the security screening area. I got into line. Uh oh....I'll have to take my shoes off. But first I had to get my ID out of my wallet. While supporting myself on my 'cane', holding my carryon and jacket with the same arm, I got my wallet out. Crap! I dropped my ID.... "Here, let me get that for you" a woman said. What could I say? She retrieved it and gave it to me, smiling brightly. "Thanks" I said, returning a somewhat weaker smile. A few steps ahead was the conveyor belt accepting shoes, bags and the like. I stepped out of line and sat on a bench provided for the people the likes of me. I removed my shoes, and tucked them under my right arm, the same one supporting my 'bad ankle'. This was really getting complicated. But there was no turning back now. I struggled just enough getting up and the people who had been behind me before I sat down, let me back in front of them. I placed my bag, shoes and jacket on the belt. After asking if I could do without the cane for a moment, the security agent added the cane to the other items being X rayed. "Is this a cane?", he asked, looking just a little suspicious. "What else could it be?" I replied. I limped just slightly, putting as little weight as possible on my right foot and walked through the metal detector. I got my shoes on and collected my items, while looking a little uncomfortable, and got the heck out of there. But not too quickly, and leaning on my 'cane'. When I first concieved this seemingly simple deception I did not imagine having to play the part all the time. But I had to...I had NO idea who would be on my flight next, who would see me twice or ten times...crap. This was complicated. Getting on my flight wasn't simple either. I had to manuever down steps to the tarmac, and up steps to the aircraft, all while actually supporting my weight on my 'cane' and carrying my burdens. On the way down the steps my 'cane' slipped between the steps and I nearly fell. "Oh!!" gasped the lady behind me. "I'm OK", I said sheepishly. Damn airlines could've made the steps safer for we people with canes, I thought. When I got to the aircraft's door the stewardess said "Would you like a front row seat, sir?" "No, no that isn't necessary, this is just a ..." "Sir no one is assigned here. It will be easier for you" Front row seats had no seat in front of them, hence no place to put your bags. So once I had sat down I was about to get up and put my bag in the overhead. The stewardess, foreseeing my imminent 'struggle', came over and put my bag in the overhead for me. "I'll put your cane in the front for you sir and give it to you when we land." "Thanks", I said, meeting her eyes with difficulty. The worst was yet to come. Upon landing the stewardess gave me my cane, and got my bag for me. And let me off the aircraft first. Because of difficulties in Philadelphia I had to stay over. The people travelling with me to the hotel had not seen me so I was NOT disabled for that portion of the trip. What a relief... But the next day, on arrival at the airport, the cane ruse continued. To my horror, while struggling, just slightly with my bag and 'cane', I recognized a woman who had been on the bus to the hotel with me. She was going to Portland!! She gave me an odd look, but said nothing. I arrived at Portland and was able to practically skip down the hall twirling my shooting stick. The weirdest thing is I had almost convinced myself that my knee or ankle DID hurt, but I am not sure which.... I'll never do that again... | 
