This doesn’t suit any­one

Annapolis Valley Register - - OPIN­ION - Steve Bartlett The Deep End Steve Bartlett is an ed­i­tor with Saltwire Net­work. He dives into the Deep End each week to es­cape re­al­ity and En­ter­tain­ment Tonight’s red car­pet cov­er­age. Reach him at sbartlett@thetele­

I’m writ­ing this col­umn im­paired.

Not by drink or drug, but by suit. I’m wear­ing a “drunk suit,” and sud­denly imag­ine stag­ger­ing up the red car­pet at the Os­cars in it.

“Who are you wear­ing? It’s not a Givenchy, is it?” Melissa Rivers (Joan’s daugh­ter) asks on be­half of mil­lions of TV view­ers as I stum­ble past.

“Drunk suit by Ford!” I re­ply. “It’s … ah … ah … cer­tainly an at­ten­tion grab­ber,” Rivers says. In­deed it is.

The suit — de­vel­oped by Ford of Canada and brought here in part­ner­ship with the lo­cal po­lice force — is not the most fash­ion­able.

But nei­ther is the rea­son it ex­ists — to help curb the im­paired driv­ing epi­demic.

The suit is com­prised of an­kle and wrist weights as well as knee, el­bow, and neck ban­dages.

Plus there are head­phones that mute sound and vi­sion-im­pair­ment gog­gles that re­mind me of how things looked for much of that first year of univer­sity.

The get-up is de­signed to sim­u­late what it’s like to be un­der the in­flu­ence.

I’m try­ing to see how it in­flu­ences my abil­ity to write a col­umn.

“You have the abil­ity to write a col­umn?” one of you is un­doubt­edly won­der­ing.

To that smarty pants I say: No less than a cur­rent pres­i­dent has the abil­ity to run a coun­try.

Any­way, please don’t be of­fended by any­thing that’s been writ­ten or that fol­lows. It’s the drunk suit talk­ing.

Spellink is the firt cashulty.

It’s so bad this col­umn had to be more heav­ily edited than usual.

Some sam­ples of my sloshed sen­tences:

“Try­ing to write this on my iphon.”

“The longer it’s on, the drinker I feel.”

In fact, I’m suit ham­mered to the point where walk­ing is near im­pos­si­ble.

There’s a straight line taped to the floor in front of me and I can barely get out of the chair to at­tempt walk­ing it.

It takes min­utes to get there. Once I start walk­ing, I list to the right and nar­rowly avoid crash­ing into the wall.

I imag­ine how that con­ver­sa­tion with work­ers’ com­pen­sa­tion would have gone.

“Could you re­peat how you in­jured your­self, Sir?” they’d ask.

“Well, I was in a drunk suit for work and …”

I strug­gle to get back in my chair. Once parked, I try catch­ing a ten­nis ball in my left hand. It hits the floor af­ter two or three tosses.

This suit has im­paired my abil­ity far more than ex­pected.

Wear­ing it, or ac­tu­ally be­ing drunk, makes it pretty much use­less to try any­thing — es­pe­cially get­ting be­hind the wheel of a car, truck, SUV, mo­tor­cy­cle, go cart, etc.

So just don’t drink and drive. Do so and you could also find your­self in a suit — one you face in court and/or one you wear to a fu­neral.

Noth­ing re­motely funny about that.

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