PeDee Takes Seattle

I apologize for the delay in this continuing saga, but my computer has had a limp.

When our children decided to give their septuagenarian father a fun-filled birthday present, they chose to meet in Seattle during Spring Break and do the Emerald City – whatever that meant. You see, his birthday is in January; but the earliest all the kids and grandkids could get together would be April. I expected to be the “odd man out.” Even if the invitation automatically would include me, I knew from past experience I would not have the stamina to climb the hills (rivaled only by San Francisco), maneuver the throngs of people, manage stairs, or stand in long lines. I figured PeDee and I would stay in whatever accommodations were arranged or, better yet, stay home. I should have known better. The day before we were to make the trip North, our oldest called to suggest I go online and look at rentable wheelchairs.
First morning/first thing, while everyone else toured the Seattle Central Library and Elliot Bookstore’s moving sale, my son drove me to Access Medical Equipment to select just the right chair for PeDee and me. The clerk showed us immediately the best wheelchair for the occasion. She did warn that we could expect some challenging terrain. I could just picture how that would go – sitting…abandoned…wondering where my transporter had gone or, worse yet, seeing him or her across a crowded area but unable to get their attention that I needed to be moved.
I won’t bore you with the details of how it came about, but by the time we left Access, PeDee was riding on a shiny little red scooter (hereafter to be referred to as the LRS) that could be broken down into five pieces. After turning the key, I had only to remember to choose my speed (turtle…..rabbit) and the right knob meant forward and the left meant backward. Dropping PeDee and me and the little red scooter (LRS) in front of Ivars restaurant where the lines were already forming for lunch orders, David went to park his vehicle. Meanwhile, I tootled to what I considered to be a nonconspicuous spot and parked, waiting for anyone from our group to join me. Within minutes the beggar carrying his cardboard “desperate” sign moved from down the way to position himself between the street and me.
Finally, our group of 14 convened and told me we had reservations to eat indoors. Driving the LRS in “hare,” I was able to keep up as we were ushered to Ivar’s very back table. As I entered that last room, the bump caused by the doorsill rendered LRS useless and completely blocked the doorway. Nothing I tried would restart it. A couple or more strong arms moved the dead vehicle into the corner of the room while we ate. After lunch, David was able to reassemble and resurrect the dead red scooter.
By the time we had eaten, it was decided to take the Harbor Tour next. While some of the group shopped for souvenirs and others purchased the tour tickets, PD and I stayed to the side. Instantly, a tour guide came up to me and said, “As soon as you have your tickets, let me know. We will put you at the front of the line.”
“There are 14 of us.”
“No problem.”
And so it was that we assembled for the group photo and were ushered onto the boat ahead of the crowd. PD was happily seated with a perfect view of Seattle City and constant narrative about the sights.
The next challenge was to cross the street to the parking garage and locate the elevator to Pike’s Market. How do I describe Pike’s Market? It is a very crowded public market. Some of the vendors stock and sell items they have created themselves (jewelry, tee shirts, note cards, CD’s, etc.); others hock fresh fruits and vegetables. What I wanted to see was the arrangements of bouquets of flowers (tulips, baby’s breath, and pussy willows). The group was to reconvene at the “flying fish” market. Try to imagine the ending of a ballgame or play when everyone is trying to exit and not lose sight of their party. Now, imagine that they are squeezed into a narrow aisle and are stopping every few feet to talk to vendors. To this mix, imagine a lady whose mode of transportation (LRS) dies ever time she stops. Now you have a hint of my experience. Each time the LRS died, I had to turn it off and back on to proceed to our rendezvous point.
It would be two days before Access would be able to swap the scooter so it was left in the car, and the decision was made to just return it. My diamond willow walking stick did not leave my sight while our tour continued. At the Science Center, Patty traded her identification for a wheelchair, and she and Geoffrey took turns pushing me. The most interesting elevator of the entire Seattle experience ushered us into the world of dinosaurs, visual illusions, and live butterflies. One wall of the elevator was transparent, and we could see into the room we were about to enter; the floor of that room was about knee high. Pushing the button to go up, we watched as the elevator inched its way even with the floor, a ride that took a couple of minutes.
Sunday morning worship and lunch with dear friends, REI, Space Needle, PeDee liked Seattle. He loved being with family – observing cousins and Aunts and Uncles interacting, and Papa John eating up this special birthday gift.