Thursday, June 20, 2013

I’m about to change your life, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

I’m not sure about all the updates on the new Superman movie “Man of Steel.” Like how Superman is still vulnerable to Kryptonite, but now he also has a serious peanut allergy.

There was some serious drama in the delivery room of Kim Kardashian when she had her and Kanye West’s baby; apparently a fight broke out between the Evian and Perrier reps over who got to sponsor Kim’s water breaking.

Iran elected more moderate and stable Hassan Rowhani over Mahmoud Ahmadinejad; when Ahmadinejad found out he lost, he got so mad he fell off his booster seat.

Dunkin’ Donuts is redesigning their stores to allow their customers to sit down and eat; finally a way for those Dunkin’ Donuts customers to take a break from their incessant exercising.

The press keeps pushing the surveillance scandal, but people simply are not upset the NSA is tracking the Internet, e-mails and phone calls to hunt terrorists; now if the NSA interfered with information about Kim and Kanye’s new baby? Then we’d be pissed.

There was some serious drama in the delivery room of Kim Kardashian when she had Kanye West’s baby; when the baby was born, the doctor wanted to slap the mother instead.

The Taliban wants to begin negotiations with the US; now, I am no intelligence expert, but this may have to do with our new proctologist-operated drone missiles.

So it turns out I almost died the same day as James Gandolfini.

Last night, I am grilling soy sauce and maple syrup marinated salmon on a cedar plank with lemon slices on top for Virg’s birthday dinner. So Ann Caroline and Virg are out shopping, but, before they left, they say they want to eat outside.

Looking at the patio dinner table, I see that the table’s big Costco umbrella in the middle of it needs to be adjusted at the top before I can pull the rope to raise the umbrella up and out. So I step on the patio furniture chair and then step up on to the table. Now, I thought I had stepped on to the table far enough in the middle so it wouldn’t tilt over. Turns out I was wrong.

The table tilts, so to keep from falling, I make a desperate grab for the umbrella pole. The umbrella pole breaks, and I go flying off the table, head first for the cement still clutching the umbrella. 

By some miracle, I guess the umbrella must have broken my fall, because I did not hit my arms or my head on the cement, I land on top of and inside the umbrella.

What I did hurt was my shin, which whacked the arm of the patio chair on my way down. These chairs are made from this insanely heavy and hard Australian hardwood called Jarrah wood. They might as well be iron. My left shin hits this chair so hard, hitting the ground/cement with my body from four feet up does not hurt by comparison. My first thought is:

“So this is what it feels like to break your leg.”

It hurt so bad, I did not yell or scream. It was like the pain was so intense it side-stepped the screaming process. Sort of like shock. For a long time,  I was afraid to look at my shin. 

Just glad to be alive, I laid there for a good minute. The umbrella had me wrapped up inside of it's ribs and cloth and the rope like Captain Ahab twisted and tangled in the ropes of all the harpoon spear lines on top of Moby Dick. It took a few seconds to unfurl myself from inside the umbrella.

When I gathered up the courage to look at my shin, I was very relieved to see no bones sticking out. It was badly barked and scraped, and bleeding, but not broken. This was confirmed when I discovered I could stand on it. Believe me, it still hurt, but the pain was masked by my relief at not being hurt worse.

But the swelling on the shin started. Right away the bump on the front of my shin was the size of half a grapefruit. After much ice and hydrogen peroxide, it was much better.

Today half of my shin, almost down to the ankle, looks like I stepped into a bucket of blue ink.

So how does the Taliban get to ask for peace talks?

At some point an enemy is so bad and has done so many terrible things, they don't get to just say, OK, I quit. It's like if the Nazis said; 

"OK,  you guys beat us, just let us have Berlin."