Fair Damsel In Distress...C'est Moi

I rode up hill and down dale thinking , if I make it there, I'll make it anywhere and I just about did.

But the last sidewalk rise on the north side of Tyler Street is wot dun me in.

I stopped dead at the foot of the United Church steps. Ahead was the vast vacant expanse of Yonge Street . A teeming Metropolis, it was not. Sitting on a scooter gazing at it for twenty minutes provides a complete perspective.

It was 10.30 Saturday morning . You could roll a bowling ball down the centre of each sidewalk and risk hitting not a living soul. A customer swinging his legs over the top rail of the ramp outside the Bank of Commerce was the only sign of life.

I've ridden my bike to the orchards at the north end of town and sat on a tree stump looking down at the town at six o'clock in the morning for a similar view of activity.

A few people walked around me. A couple circled bicycles past me. I was in the centre of the sidewalk.

Then a woman's voice said: "Do you need help?"

"Do you know anything about scooters?" I asked. She didn't. But that slight lady, younger than myself, knew more than I.

Turn it off and take the key out. Put the key back in and start it again. And it did. I was off and running, so-to-speak, and once again on my way to the market.

Thank you, neighbour.

It was a nice visit to the Market but not as relaxed as it might have been.

The scooter was charged several times since the season changed, It was fully charged two nights before. I didn't use it. I thought the charge would still be in there.The needle was erratic when I set out. I went back and forth a few times and decided to go.

The manual says a full charge lasts twelve hours and a 100 kms. I was only going six kms and for no longer than a couple of hours. It should be alright. I wanted it to be so.

Coming home was problematic. I could have gone back along the railway but I wasn't sure of sidewalks. So, I didn't. Theresa was in the car. If I needed her. she needed to find me.

I needed her. A sidewalk gradient a fraction greater than others stopped me again. When I did the key thing, the scooters front wheels lifted ever so slightly off the ground.

Oh- Oh ...I thought. Ass -over- tea-kettle is not the image I wish to project nor how I wished to exit the world.

When I heard the voice behind me asking "Evelyn, are you in trouble?" I knew the gods were with me.

I know I don't fit the model of Fair Damsel in Distress.

But William(Bill) the Red Allison, Of Willow Farms, North Aurora, Pipe Major of the White Heather Pipe Band, was certainly my Knight in Shining Red Helmet.

He pushed me and my scooter, with the help of the failing battery, half- way home and the rest of the way in the rain, by himself.

Sidewalk or no sidewalk , full charge or no, I will never go up and down that hill again. 'Cept maybe if I lose a hundred pounds or grow a pair of wings.

Bill's wife Donna came into the house and had a coffee while we awaited her valiant spouse.

Turns out Bill reads my blog. Our conversation continued as if we had talked the day before.

Tim Jones had been urging Bill to think about being a candidate. He feels his children are too young.

I think that's when a person should be doing it. When their experience is the same as most other families in the town.

I think a man who jumps out of his car to spend hours in the middle of a Saturday to physically help somebody out of a real predicament, is exactly the kind of person who should run for Council.

Council is about overseeing the business of the corporation. Ours is a small town. We have a multi-million dollar administration to manage the day to day operation.

It's not about listening to nittering and nattering until all hours of the night. Or creating problems that don't exist and failing to solve the ones that do.

It's not about clinging together in a block and giving a totally, irrational, individual absolute power to take revenge on imagined enemies, make life miserable for everyone around and spend hundreds of thousands of tax dollars for legal fees to settle political scores.

And hundreds of thousands more, to buy votes by acceding to selfish and self-serving demands. because they never had any intention of fulfilling commitments and don't know any other way to ensure re-election.

That is not what a Council is about.

We need people like Bill Allison. We need to assure them their families will not be the losers. Council hours should accommodate members. Families should benefit from the experience along with every other young family in the community.

It should not be about sacrifice.It's a worthwhile experience that cannot be duplicated anywhere.

Sometimes a citizen needs to hear that he or she is needed and that's all it takes.

So, if you know someone like Bill Allison or his wife Donna, encourage them to come forward as candidates.

Tell them.....God knows, the need has never been so great.