Species Homo sapiens
has come up with all kinds of different names for cripples. I thought I heard
them all.
But
here’s a new one. When I ride Chicago Transit Authority trains, the Homo
sapiens who work for CTA refer to me as a 10-43.
“I
got a 10-43 at Chicago Avenue!”
A
cripple shows up to ride the train. The train pulls up to the station. The door opens. The station attendant puts
down a yellow, fiberglass ramp that bridges the gap between train and platform.
The cripple rolls in. The attendant
calls the attendant at the station of the cripple’s destination to alert the
attendant that a cripple is approaching so be ready with the ramp.
“I
got a 10-43 at Chicago Avenue!”
Some
of the attendants really enjoy throwing around that 10-43 stuff. Maybe it makes
them feel like a cop or a marine. Once, when the platform was crowded, the
attendant walked ahead of me, clearing my path. “Everybody step back,” he said “There’s
a 10-43 coming through!”
I
bet I know how 10-43 came about. I bet CTA formed a committee with the mission
of making recommendations on what to call crippled passengers. Cripples are really touchy about that stuff. It’s
easy to piss us off. We can’t even agree on what to call each other.
Because
all the commonly-used words for cripple are so tainted. You can't just say, “I got a cripple
at Chicago Avenue!” That will piss some cripples off.
And
you can’t say, “I got a handicapable individual at Chicago Avenue!” That will
piss cripples like me off.
And
you sure as hell can’t say, “I got an invalid at Chicago Avenue!” That will
piss every cripple off.
No
matter what you say, some cripple is gonna get pissed off. So about the only way
to come up with a word that’s taint free is to coin a new one. Thus, 10-43.
It’s simple. It’s to the point. It’s neutral-ish. There's no taint.
This
could be a breakthrough. Because there’s a dire need in the marketplace for a universally
acceptable name for cripples. There are a lot of thoughtlessly named products
out there. Like once when I was in a hospital examining room, they needed to
transfer me from my wheelchair to the exam table. So they rolled in this
lifting device that looked like an assless hammock. And the device was called
the Maxi Move
What
the hell is that supposed to mean? Maxi Move? That sounds like some kind of crane
constructed by the Army Corps of Engineers for the purpose of moving a beached whale! But what if
they called the Maxi Move something like the 10-43 Toter? Doesn’t that sound much more civilized?
And
the brand name of the wheelchair I’m sitting in is Invacare. There’s that word "invalid" again, which Miriam-Webster defines as not valid. But when used as a noun, it means crippled. Same difference. The Invacare brand is to
cripples what the Washington Redskins brand is to Native Americans. I’m surprised Invacare’s logo isn’t a cripple
in traction wrapped in bandages like a mummy.
Invacare
could call their wheelchairs 10-43 Mobiles instead. Nobody would balk, except
maybe some eternal malcontents who might say, “I am NOT a number. I’m a human
being!” For them I offer the Bronx cheer.
The
more I think about this 10-43 jazz, the more I like it. It has a certain
unstigmatized ring to it. Someday I might call myself a smart ass 10-43.
