Posted by: Brad Nixon | March 9, 2010

Door Post

We all dread those words, “X is starting a blog,” because if you know “X,” then you know he’s going to expect you to read his blog. And, since you are familiar with all the axes he has grind and with his pet peeves and his childish enthusiasms, you just have to mourn that you’ll now be subjected to this stuff in writing when you already get enough of it from him in person, on those occasions you can’t avoid him.

What can you do? You could tell X that you won’t be able to access his blog because you’ve canceled your Internet provider service so that you can work without distraction on your refutation of the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. You could try explaining that you’re only using the company computer now, and you can’t access non-work-related sites. As a last resort, you might get a doctor friend to write you a phony prescription limiting your viewing of computer screens.

Nope. You’re stuck,and you know it. You’re going to have to read his crank opinions, and here one comes.

I’ve tried to go gently regarding personal hobby horses in MY blog. I’ve stuck to making observations about things that I think you will find interesting.¬†But there IS something that bugs me. Here it is.

Today, I walked across the street for lunch. The office building there has a revolving door. Beside it is a power-assisted door that allows people with disabilities to enter by pushing a button that opens the double doors. (You already know where I’m going with this.) I ask: why do a majority of able-bodied people unencumbered by luggage or things in their hands choose to push a button to hold two doors open for them instead of using the revolving door?

Bukowski¬†knew about this. In his words: “These are people whose cities have never been bombed.” Buk wasn’t advocating the bombing of cities. He was pointing out that the majority of our pampered race are spoiled children who can’t be bothered to open their own doors. I know all these individuals didn’t grow up with lackeys in their houses to open doors for them. If they did, then there are more lackeys about than even I suspected. Do they have some phobia about being in a closed space? Maybe so. Perhaps that possibility is what prevents me from openly chastising them … well, that, and my native shyness.

Leaving aside value judgments about the possible selfishness and laziness and lack of character of these individuals, here’s why this matters: energy. Using a motorized door which then stands open for a full minute uses something like 8 times as much of the building’s heating/cooling load as using a revolving door. HERE is an article on citing research conducted at MIT which bears out this fact.

If you need assistance opening a door, by all means use the button, unless one of us gets there first to hold the door for you. Nor will I mock you if your hands are full of important things you’re carrying, like your cigarettes and a Starbucks cup in one hand while your toy Chihuahua is tucked under your other arm. Far be it from me ….

If you have the motive power and you’re not carrying your lunch, push the darned revolving door. Think of it as connecting with the joy you felt as a kid as you raced to be the first one to push into the revolving door. You can even recite Newman Levy’s wonderful poem, “The Revolving Door,” which begins:

“This is horrible tale of Paul

MacGregor James D. Cuthbert Hall …”

Go HERE for the full poem. I could recite it for you, but someone else already keyed it in. If you don’t know it, you’ll have a blast.

Use the revolving door, darn it. I’ll feel better for it. So may you.



  1. “If You Don’t Have a Disability Now, Using a Revolving Door Could Get You There”

    I don’t use those assisted doors. But I have to say, I do hate revolving doors, and always look for the standard unassisted swing door as an alternative. I don’t care how big and heavy the unassisted swing door is — I’ll even try the drawbridge to a castle first — I’ll always take it over a revolving door.

    If you’ve ever been to a modern Medical Facility that has these new revolving doors, you know what I mean. I find them very confusing and slightly dangerous. You push on one of the glass doors, and then, like a stuck Toyota gas pedal, it takes off on its own. You better keep up, or you’ll be guillotined by a large sheet of heavy plate glass.

    So let’s assume that you’re fast enough to keep up with the high-speed guillotine as it sweeps around and around like a helicoper blade. OK, now you need to find the exit point. How? The rotating glass doors are in a round case of glass. Everything is CLEAR. You have to keep running round and round until you find that narrow opening between the round glass sheets. Better not miss, or you’ll lose an arm, or worse. I hate ’em. But I’m almost 60, so these doors were probably not made for old folks like me that need to use the hospital.


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