Shock! Horror!
Just a couple of random news stories for you from last week. They’re both pretty horrifying, but in very different ways.
Take this one, for starters: I don’t use a mobility scooter myself. But, if I did, I suspect two tonnes of panicking shire horse galloping directly towards me on iron-shod hooves the size of dinner plates would be pretty high on my list of Traffic Hazards I Would Really Rather Not Encounter. I mean, jeepers, how scary is that? And they say passive smoking might be bad for your health…
An anonymous contributor to the Carlisle News and Star has left me almost speechless with indignation.
Bench Police Are Talking Through Their Buttocks is the hardly-at-all contentious headline to the piece in which he (or she) decries Part III of the Disability Discrimination Act (you know, the bit which is intended to make public services accessible to thee and me) as being “designed to provide jobsworths with something nitpicking to poke their noses into”. “There must be some secret Whitehall department, ensconced in a bunker deep underground, that thinks up these barmy rules”, apparently.
And why the outpouring of vitriol? Because our calm contributor has discovered that 40 memorial seats in a cemetery in Nottinghamshire have had to be replaced because they are three inches lower than the “allowed minimum height”.
“People have been donating benches in memory of loved ones for years without, to my knowledge, anyone suffering serious injury as a result of resting their weary buttocks on them” fulminates our anonymous Mr (or Mrs) Angry.
Ok, so, several points here:
1. Yes, that’s right. The only possible thing you could do with a bench which is too low is to get rid of it. Because that makes much more financial sense than raising the height by putting some sort of plinth under it, doesn’t it?
2. I’d actually be surprised if the DDA applies to benches donated as memorials by the grieving families of the deceased. Private individuals don’t constitute service-providers. I imagine it would depend on whether the private individual has contributed a bench made to their own design, or just a plaque to be affixed to a standard-issue council bench. Er, in which case, surely said plaque could be unscrewed and re-affixed to the new taller bench, no?
3. Surprisingly, people who would be prone to injury if they tried to rise from too low a seat are Pretty Flipping Good at identifying low seats by sight alone. Standing is very painful for me, but I’ll opt for standing every time over being stuck in a low seat until the emergency services have had time to arrive with a hoist.
4. I’m not much given to sitting in cemeteries, to be honest. However, if I were, and the benches there weren’t accessible to me, then I don’t think it would be unreasonable of me to feel slightly miffed.
“And by the way, the cemetery bosses in question have also been informed they must create wheelchair access round all their benches and provide lighting for the seats” – er, I think we’re expected to be horrified by this.
I mean, have I missed something here? Is there some rule that no-one close to you can ever die if you’re a wheelchair-user? Or do wheelchair-users have the parts of their brains which register feelings of grief removed? Or, if you’re a wheelchair-user who’s visiting a cemetery, are you supposed to lurk quietly in the shadows so as not to upset people who are already grieving with your ever-so-in-yer-face reminder that Bodies Can Go Wrong?
Ah, but the best bit is yet to come. This is what made me drop my jaw and emit strangled noises of rage. Are you ready for this?
“…and ultimately the public suffer”.
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Ouch readers all, to this Cumbrian writer “the public” is a term which excludes “the elderly and infirm” and people who might want wheelchair access. Or lighting.
Which is funny because, up until this point, I had been labouring under the delusion that I actually was a member of the public. I use public transport: no-one tries to force me off the bus. But, no. Apparently, laws which are intended to make public areas accessible to me stop “the public” from “enjoying our imperfect but happy lives in peace”. How awful. And how very selfish of me. I may have to re-think my whole approach…
Comments
*jaw hanging open* Oh. My. Gawd.
I was pretty gob smacked at this too. May this enlightened journo (and I'm beginning to think that 99% of the blighters are disablist idiots) is the kind of person who moans about blue badge holders being able to park where they want, guide dogs being able to go into shops, ramped access to shops and amenities, lower counters in banks for wheelchair users and the fact that disabled people are allowed out at all. Lock 'em up I say and throw away the key. They are not normal!!!!
Congratulations! I never thought the day would come when I would see the word 'buttocks' so prominently displayed on a BBC site. I bow in honour to you, Lady Bracknell's Editor.
This "public" word is used often - the MP who recently objected to the number of "handicapped" parking spaces (having been fined for using one illegally) used the same word. But in a sense, it makes me feel like a member of the elite. We're not mere members of the public. We're special.
Would be nice if it was accompanied by special privileges - folks not dying on us would be really very nice.
I do understand that people are upset, but the DDA does have the word "reasonableness" running through it like a stick of Blackpool rock.
Is it "reasonable" to change ALL the benches?
Some, maybe, but not all, I would say.
Mind you, I'm also a wheelchair user, so I don't use the things in the first place!