Spotlight: No Spring Chicken: Stories and Advice from a Wild Handicapper on Aging and Disability by Francine Falk-Allen
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As we age, we all begin to have physical difficulties to contend with. It can be challenging for spouses, children, and friends to adapt to the changes people go through as they age—to drop expectations and meet their loved ones where they are. And, often, even though the advice is well-meaning, it is unrealistic and doesn’t help solve problems.
In No Spring Chicken, Francine Falk-Allen offers her own take on navigating the complications aging brings with equanimity (and a sense of humor).
The book is divided into three sections: Part I is a jaunt through accessible travel pleasures and pitfalls; Part II addresses the adaptations caregivers can make for a mutually rewarding relationship with their loved ones, plus advice for physically challenged and aging persons themselves regarding exercise, diet, pain management, mobility, care tips and more; and Part III discusses the rewards of engaging with support groups sharing similar issues, with a little activism and advocacy thrown in for good measure.
Accessible and wryly funny, No Spring Chicken is an informative guide to living your best and longest life―whatever your physical challenges, and whatever your age.
Excerpt
How Far Can I Walk?—Excerpted from No Spring Chicken: Stories and Advice from a Wild Handicapper on Aging and Disability by Francine Falk-Allen
I’ve traveled a great deal, especially for someone with a mostly paralyzed, atrophied leg from polio.
One warm summer day in Paris, we asked our hotel concierge, Benoit, how far it was to a particular restaurant, Le Petit Prince de Paris—a place we’d heard had excellent food and a fun atmosphere. We had about fifteen minutes to get there.
“Ah, oui, it’s not far,” Benoit said. “It will take you about five minutes.”
Thankful for the generous time frame, we set off, me with my cane and my husband, Richard, with his boundless energy. Twenty minutes later, after walking several blocks and hiking up a moderate hill, we still were not there yet, and I was nearly exhausted. We realized that for Benoit, this was a five-minute walk, but it was about a half mile, which for me, with my taking a break to lean against a lamppost or sit down in a sidewalk café every block or so, is at least a half-hour’s walk.
Ever since that experience, if a clerk at the airport, a concierge at a hotel, a storekeeper, or anyone else I’d expect to be able to estimate distance accurately tells me, “It’s very close,” I ask how long it takes to walk it, and then at least triple the time. I sometimes ask, “How many blocks?” because most people cannot estimate distances very accurately, and asking, “Is it a quarter-mile?” will usually get you an answer of, “Oh, no, it’s not that far.” When I hear their time estimate—which, in Euro pean or city terms, is for an able-bodied person who not only walks everywhere very quickly every day, but also carries groceries home in both arms—I know whether I can do it.
People will often look at me with my crutches or cane and still not understand that a block is far enough, two is pushing it, and beyond that may be a hardship or neces sitate allowing twenty minutes to include stops for rest, or even require a car ride. On a leisurely day when Richard and I plan to stop every block or so and sit down, it’s less of a problem. People don’t understand walking limitations unless they have had them; even nurses and doctors who deal with these problems on a daily basis often don’t translate their knowledge into practical circumstances. (Exception: My polio doctor! She totally gets it.
Whenever someone tells you, as a person with a walking difficulty, “It’s close,” it’s wise to be skeptical, unless it is very easy for you to walk a mile or more. I don’t look decrepit, so I get a lot of bad advice. Be prepared to get a lot of that in Europe, where everyone walks everywhere at a pace unseen in California. (This is why they get to eat pastries all the time, and we don’t!)
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About the Author
Francine Falk-Allen was born in Los Angeles and has lived nearly all of her life in Northern California. A former art major with a BA in managerial accounting who ran her own business for thirty-three years, she has always craved creative outlets. This has taken the form of singing and recording with various groups, painting, and writing songs, poetry, and essays, some of which have been published.
Falk-Allen facilitates Polio Survivors of Marin County and Just Write Marin County (a Meetup writing group), and is a volunteer member of the San Rafael City ADA Accessibility Committee.
Her first book, Not a Poster Child: Living Well with a Disability: A Memoir has been included on several national outlets’ lists of best books of 2018, including Kirkus Reviews, BuzzFeed, and PopSugar, and received a gold medal from Living Now Book Awards for Inspiring Memoir – Female and a silver medal from Sarton Women’s Book Awards for memoir.
She was also named one of “25 Women Making a Difference in 2019” by Conversations Magazine. She loves the outdoors, gardening, pool exercise, her sweet, peculiar old cat, spending time with her husband and good friends, strong British tea, and a little champagne now and then.
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SAN RAFAEL, CALIFORNIA
Author of No Spring Chicken: Stories and Advice from a Wild Handicapper on Aging and Disability
