Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Tripping the light fantastic

Or, as may be the case: Tripping.


A certain someone, who shall remain nameless to protect the few remaining shreds of her tattered dignity, decided yesterday afternoon that it would be a good idea to fall down the last couple of steps at church and damage her foot. To make the story just a tad bit more exciting, she was holding a flock of five flamingos at the time. Fortunately, the flamingos were of the plastic variety and more fortunately, she managed to avoid being gored by their ten, flailing, pointed, metal legs. (We decided not to tell any of the medical personnel that come later in this story about the flamingos for fear of having her admitted to the psych ward) The pastor, being the astute, perceptive guy that he is came down the stairs to investigate the possibility that all that plastic clattery noise may have been an indicator that something out of the ordinary had happened.

“Did you fall down?” he asked, insightfully.

I’m not sure of the exact reply, but I have been informed that it was not the first thing that popped into her head – “No, I always lay on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Are you ok?” was the next question. Again, I’m not sure of the exact reply, but I have been assured that the pastor was not subjected to any new words, or any new applications of old words for that matter.

A chair was brought which allowed our heroine to reclaim some of her dignity.

Now, you have to know our pastor to really appreciate how uncomfortable he was at this particular moment. He’s a super-nice guy, and I believe he has a sensitive and caring nature. He’s also very shy and awkward in social interactions. The fact that he’s a preacher says something about God’s use of the most peculiar tools to accomplish His will. (see Moses, Gideon, Jacob, Paul, etc.) He can preach up a storm, though, so it’s not as if he’s completely mismatched to the job.

Anyway, Brother Scott gets all fidgety and nervous around people to begin with and being the ‘first-responder’ was obviously compounding his distress.

“I’ll go put these in the car for you,” he said as he gathered up the wayward flock. Upon the successful completion of that task, he then went back upstairs. To return in a few minutes with the minister of education/administration in tow. Danny is everything Scott is not and was very solicitous, urging the use of various bandages and perhaps the services of trained medical personnel. But our heroine, herself feeling somewhat awkward to be the center of attention, not to mention embarrassment as to WHY she was the center of attention, insisted on just going home.

Which she did.

And then she called me.

“Let me get things squared-away here and I’ll come home and check on you.” She insisted that it wasn’t necessary. She could pick up the Youngest Aardvark Child from school. No reason to change my schedule. Etc, etc, etc.

I got things squared-away and went home. Yep. That foot’s hurt all right. If you missed the swelling, the big purple patch still gave it away.

Off to school to pick up the YAC, then back home to drop her off and pick up She Who Shall Not Be Named and head to the ER. Fortunately, Monday is one of your off-days for ER types, so things were not backed up for hours. Filled out the preliminary paperwork. Offered driver’s license and insurance information which was handed back with the comment that it wasn’t needed now. Waited for about 15 minutes until the triage nurse called.

“Do you need a wheelchair?” she asked.

“Yes, that would be best,” I said.

“Ok, well come across the hall to my office and we’ll get you one.”




So, we limped across the hall and answered some more questions and then waited while a wheelchair was procured.

Back across the hall to wait some more then it’s off to have pictures taken. Wallets and some 5 X 7s mostly. Then it’s back to waiting. Get called back up to the window to sign some forms and then be asked for the driver’s license and insurance info. Wait for a few more minutes and then it’s back to the ER.

Nice nurse and doctor types provide typically good care.

Yep. It’s broken. Just a chip, but that counts. And of course, the X-rays don’t tell them if there’s any muscle or ligament damage. A trip to the orthopedist later in the week will have to assess that.



All in all a pretty speedy trip to the ER. Only three hours door-to-door.

A certain husband-type then made a trip to Walgreens for pharmaceuticals and to Chick-fil-A for comestibles and then it was back home for the ever-popular meal of chicken, fries and hydrocodone. Mmmm, mmmmHHH!!!

We have an appointment later this afternoon with the regular doctor so we can get a referral to an orthopedist later this week.

Stay tuned for breaking news. (Heh. Breaking…)

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    Monday, February 27, 2006

    Bad juju

    I know it's not good to be delighted by another's misfortune. And yet...

    Perhaps I'll just say that it "warms me 'eart" to see some folks finally get the success they deserve.

    As to what the future may hold, my guess is that he'll go back to fleecing preaching to folks with itchy ears (after all, it's worked pretty well for the last ten).

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    Sunday, February 26, 2006

    Are there tours?

    Had a head-snapping attention-getter in Sunday School this morning. We were talking about Illyricum [ill-EER-ick-um] (the Roman province) and, as it sometimes does, my mind took a short little side trip.

    I was startled back to the here-and-now by the teacher's mispronunciation: ill-ICK-er-um which, naturally, started a new side trip. The best I can figure it, Illiquorum's biggest export must have been that demon whiskey the indians always drank.

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    Friday, February 24, 2006

    Back to the future

    Inventions I demand NOW! (So y’all get busy, ok?)

    • Cars that drive themselves – I tell it where I want to go and sit back and play Sudoku.

    • Food replicators – Turn household junk into food. (Finally, a use for those annoying AOL CDs)

    • Holographic computer monitors – REALLY play games in 3-D.

    • Tesseractic closets – I need the extra storage space.

    • A universal un-translator. If I can’t understand you, I can’t talk to you and if I can’t talk to you, you can’t annoy me. A win/win all around.

    • A time dilation device. I’m not interested in speeding up, per se, but it would be nice to sleep 10 hours in 4, or work 8 hours in 2. (More time for 3-D games)

    • The eight-bladed razor. Just because. (for those who don't know - see here. And naturally, the link doesn't seem to be working correctly, so scroll down to the "New Product" post)

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    Hardest job in the world?

    Prosecutor in Jamaica




    Why? Oh...




    All the juries come back dreadlocked.

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    Thursday, February 16, 2006

    Birthday? Birthday?

    Why, yes it IS someone's birthday today.

    But just between you and me, she's doing it all WRONG! You're supposed to LOOK older as you age and she's refusing to cooperate.

    Happy birthday, sweetie.

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    Tuesday, February 14, 2006

    Rolling in D'oh!

    Now that the day is actually upon us, this advice (FREE!!!) is too late to be helpful for this year. Perhaps you can save it in an old coffee can and pull it out for next year.

    My custom for a number of years has been to splurge and buy Mrs. A a large box of Godiva truffles for Valentine's Day. I think the first year, the box cost about $35. That should give you some indication of how long ago the tradition started.

    Last week, Mrs. A told me, in plain, simple English, using short words, that she was trying to be "good" on her Atkins diet and was also sensitive to the current state of our finances (we're not exactly poor or broke, but we're not like sailors home on a one-week shore leave either) and so, I should NOT buy her a big box of Godiva truffles this year.

    Now, fellas, I KNOW that when a woman tells you something like this, you're not SUPPOSED to believe it, but doggone it, she LOOKED all sincere and truthful and even said she that she really, REALLY meant it.

    So, Sunday afternoon, knowing I hadn't gone out and sourced said box o' chocs, I decided I'd better test the waters while I still had time. Call it a hunch.

    "So, I just wanted you to know that I haven't gone out and bought any Godiva truffles."

    "Oh sure. NOW you decide to listen to me!?!"




    Ah. I see.

    Having thusly lowered my sweeties expectations while putting myself in the same phylum as streptococcus bacillus, I did manage to pull off a minor redemption this morning by producing two moderately sized packages of Harry & David truffles to include with her card.


    I beg of you to learn from my story. DON'T LET THIS HAPPEN TO YOU!

    You're sweetie may not be as long-suffering (and I mean that literally) as mine.

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    Friday, February 10, 2006

    Pop Quiz

    You are riding a motorcycle in the rain. After stopping at a stop sign, you notice there is a slower moving car in your lane. You need to turn right in about 200 feet. Do you,

    A) ease off the gas and incur the 2 second delay before making your right turn,


    B) gun it and pass the slowpoke on the left, then cut in front and brake for your right turn, trusting in the reflexes and brakes of the other driver to not engage your significantly smaller, lighter vehicle in a game of bumper tag thereby using you as an impromptu speed bump on their way to work?

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