Sunday, September 11, 2011

A Mercifully Short History of Bad Ideas

Don't be mislead by the title of this post. I have bad ideas to spare. In fact if you need any, call or email and I'll send you some of my overstock. This will be a mercifully short history because of the concentrated time period in which it takes place, not because of a sudden short supply of stupidity.

Our sorry tale begins on Labor Day. We had plans to go to the Alaska State Fair. My back was acting up for the first time in years and I decided it would be smart to stay home. This was a good idea. Probably the last one I had that day. Pam asked if she should stay home to keep an eye on me, but I didn't want her to miss those mammoth cabbages, weird looking chickens, and enormous hogs raised by improbably young members of the 4H club, so I said "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Stupid idea #1.

She wisely gave me a second chance to have her stick around which I declined citing the profoundly stupid point that I would likely be too proud to accept her help on anything consequential, so she might as well go enjoy herself and not worry about me. If you're keeping track this probably counts as bad idea #2.

Two or three hours into her absence my back began to act up with a sadistic streak unlike any thing I had ever experienced. After a long and inventive period of writhing around I discovered I could attain a measure of relief by lying on the floor and curling my legs up to my chest. Expecting Pam to return at any time I decided to kill the intervening hours by watching "Magnolia". Which I did on my back my legs curled up, the picture on the TV appearing upside down. You're probably thinking this was bad idea #3 but it was actually worth it. I love William H. Macy in this flick.

Eventually Pam returned and found me on the floor doubled up watching Macy get creamed by a rain of frogs. I lay down in the back of the Subaru and we drove at a smart clip to the emergency room. They loaded me up with 20 mg of Valium and when that didn't kill the spasms in my back muscles they threw in some morphine too. That worked. I even felt good enough to lecture Pam about how morphine was known as "Soldiers Joy" back in the Civil War, hence the name of the popular fiddle tune by the name of "Soldiers Joy". Music and drugs go way back together. Naturally Pam found this fascinating.

Armed with a prescription from the ER doctor for Valium to relax my back we drove to the all-night drug store, and picked up some little green pills. Boy did that do the trick! I became the very incarnation of mellow. I wasn't worried about anything. For instance walking around the house in the dark with a compromised sense of balance from PD further compromised by muscles relaxed by Valium. This led to a certain amount of banging and crashing as I rammed into walls and furniture. Bad idea #4? I think so.

At this point Pam began to get a touch irritated "What are you trying to prove?" She demanded. A reasonable question. I'm not sure of the answer. Maybe that she doesn't have to drive all the way to the State Fair for entertainment.


Steve said...

Between your evil sense of humor and the blog . . .

[not sure how to finish that]

ECleary78 said...

I don't know if i should say how much I enjoyed this blog, as it's mainly a collection of small ways you suffered on one sunny afternoon.... You have also inadvertantly triggered the yoga teacher in me to come out. If you don't practice yoga I would think about it. Keeping your muscles pliant will help you in obvious ways. Sorry but it's similar to me writing a blog about sketching my self portait in pen. You'd be all over that one

Peter Dunlap-Shohl said...

You should at least enjoy it more than i did. Laughter with someone is a token of sympathy and understanding. So yuk it up. Also I would appreciate hearing your opinion on a good book on Yoga that is appropriate for someone with compromised balance and stiff muscles. Thanks,