The amazing thing about life is it can change in an instant. One second, you’re cooking with gas; the next you are in a place you’d hoped you’d never be.
Like when someone runs a red light and you are in the wrong place at the wrong time, or the second before the doctor confirms you have a major illness. Of course, it can change for the better too, like hitting the Lotto. But that’s hard to do and even that has its downside, if you really think about it (long lost relatives, anyone?).
A few years ago, I was up on a ladder trimming a tree when the ladder broke. It was an old, beat-up aluminum step-ladder that wasn’t in great shape. Still, I never thought it would just outright fail like that.
The good news is I wasn’t that high up. The bad news is I landed on rock-hard landscaping pavers. That incident resulted in shoulder surgery. Ouch.
So the other day, the evening news mentioned possible ice storms in the forecast. I know I should pay more attention to the weather, but I just don’t. I mean, weather is going to be what weather is going to be.
Predicting has gotten better as of late, I will admit that, but it’s not like they can predict it exactly. So I just plan on dealing with whatever the weather is when I have to deal with it. Take it as it comes.
Next morning, I was the first one up as usual. When I opened the front door to retrieve the morning paper there was indeed ice all over the driveway.
Now here’s where being a stubborn old Italian guy bites me in the rear. Once I saw the ice I should have, at a minimum, put on good snow boots, a good, warm jacket, and maybe even brought out the ice pick.
Instead, incredibly, I ventured out of the house in nothing but Crocs and pajamas. Yes, you read that right. Stupid is as stupid does.
In my mind, I was thinking: “I only have to go to the mailbox. It’s not that far away. I’ll go slowly. I’ll be careful. What could go wrong?”
The song that should be coming to mind right now is “Fools Rush In.”
I made it down the three steps to the patio pavers. I didn’t have any problem at this point. In fact, the cold (15 degrees Fahrenheit), bracing air invigorated me and helped me to wake up. The problem started when my Crocs hit the blacktop driveway. I’ll never forget that moment as long as I live.
If you’re like me, you’ve always wondered what it would be like to fly. How can you not look at eagles and falcons soaring effortlessly on the breeze and wonder what that would be like? It would be the greatest thing ever, no doubt. That has to be the ultimate freedom.
One time my son was really into magic. He was so good he was offered jobs. At one point, we had six live doves in the house. He would use them in various parts of his act.
One was named Dovey, one was named Mr. Dove, and the other four had no names (go figure). I got to hold the birds now and then. That’s when I figured out how birds can fly so easily.
They weigh nothing. Their feathers obscure how small their bodies are, and their bones are hollow. Combine that with ingeniously designed feathered wings that brilliantly work the air, and that’s how birds achieve the miracle of flight.
No matter how much Ozempic (the latest weight-loss drug) we could take, we could never fly like birds do.
I was thinking about birds and flying because, once my Crocs hit the ice-covered blacktop of my driveway, I was in the air. Yep, I was flying all right. My feet went right out from under me and I was actually horizontal in the air. To add insult to injury, I hadn’t even had coffee yet. Yikes.
There are several things one thinks about when horizontal in the air on an upstate New York 15F-degree morning, while wearing nothing but Crocs and pajamas and knowing that the worst, by far, is yet to come:
— Preparing to listen to your wife ask, “What were you thinking?”;
— Preparing to listen to your kids ask, “What were you thinking?”;
— Preparing to listen to your friends ask, “What were you thinking?”;
— Wondering what time Urgent Care opens; and
— Other things that can’t be repeated in polite company.
Now, the time I was horizontal in the air wasn’t that long. It had to be no more than a fraction of a second. Yet in that tiny amount of time a whole world opened up
I mean, if you think about it, how often are you horizontal in the air and not connected to terra firma in any way? I’m thinking, besides sky divers and astronauts, not many people have ever felt what I felt that morning, even if it was only for a brief period.
In effect, I was weightless for a bit, and I honestly have to say it felt very relaxing. Then I thought about this sticker I used to have on one of my motorcycles: “It’s not the speed, it’s the impact.”
So, gravity being what it is — it’s the law, for goodness sakes — I eventually came back to Earth in a very heavy and extremely painful way. Thankfully, I didn’t hit my head. No concussion or anything like that.
I wound up landing flat on my back and right shoulder. Upon impact I had searing pain in not only my back, but it somehow radiated up to my chest. Had I not known better, I would have thought I landed on an upright root or something that pierced my chest cavity. It knocked my breath away.
My poor right shoulder took a big hit too. As I write this the next day, it is still stiff and sore. Thankfully my range of motion is OK, but it will be a while before I practice guitar or hit the gym in this condition. I’m going to need some rest. Time heals all wounds.
Let’s talk about falls in general for a second, especially as related to older folks like me. I’ve heard of so many seniors taking bad falls requiring surgeries like hip replacements and the like. It’s terrible.
The only thing you can do is try to remain as active as you can in the hope of keeping your muscular strength and agility. I know, we lose our sense of balance as we age, and we just get frail. Time is a beast.
But trust me, falls are not good. Do what you can to avoid them if at all possible, including not venturing out on ice-covered driveways wearing Crocs.
My newspaper never did get delivered that morning. So much for trying to get to the mailbox. I wonder what happens to all the undelivered newspapers?
However, the good old post office still managed to deliver the mail. Through thick and thin, etc. My lovely wife was nice enough to traipse down to the mailbox to get it. There weren't even any bills for once.
Life can change in an instant, no doubt, sometimes for the better, many times for the worse, but all I know is: “I believe I can fly ….”