Tillicum Mall Cineplex Steps

SilverCity Victoria, Tillicum Mall Steps
... the curves and the bannisters  a
re outside of the frames of this photo

The steps leading up to the Cineplex in Victoria are long and curve at both ends, circular in length, the kind of steps that Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire would have used in a dance route.

At both ends are bannisters.

Yesterday as I come out of the dark of the theatre and into the daylight, it was tempting not to spread my arms, at least to my shoulders, take a deep breath and dance down them.

I was contemplating this move, then thought better of it and so changed my direction ever so slightly so that I could walk over and hold onto the bannister, not with a heavy grip but ever so lightly.

Just as I made my move to turn a voice shouted out came from the other side length of the steps where there is also a bannister, “Yes, use the bannister. That is what it is for.”

 Of course I laughed out loud and at the bottom of the stairs I walked over to meet the caller who was also laughing and who said, “I have already had one fall today. We should all use the bannister.”

“Oh that is terrible.” I replied. “Were you hurt?”

“No. That is because I took a very soft fall.”

I was laughing again.  That is because that is how I justify my falls.  They aren't really a fall unless they are hard falls.

“I took a fall today as well. We are living in dangerous times”, I said.

I didn’t tell the man about my fall. But I will tell you.

I got on the bus but didn’t know how much money to put in the fare box so that I could ride the bus all day. Five dollars, the conductor told me. I told him I would dig out the money out of my change purse and come back and give it to him. I sat down on one of the long side seats, and pulled out a handful of change from a bulging hand wallet. There was too much change there for me to keep it all closed in my hands although I was trying, the bus driver lurched the bus forward and I slid off the seat with outstretched arms, one arm going forward, the change spilling out of it and rolling down the isle and the other arm backward acting like a rudder.

Whatever money I lost out of my hand, other travellers on the bus quickly picked up and gave back to me. I found a way to scramble back up on my seat and finish counting out the change to take back up to the front.  And that was my fall.  My soft fall.

I am practising riding the bus – hanging onto the top railings or onto the poles of each chair as I make my way to the back door. The lurches are reminiscent of all of the sudden starts and stops while trying to climb the stairs on the two decker buses in London. There are lots of ways to know a person is still alive enough to have fun. Riding the bus is one of them.

Arta