Hey. You know when you have that dream about being on a filthy construction cite, the building is huge and you have to get to the other end but you are in bare feet and there is so much dust on the floor you can't tell where the nails, pieces of scrap metal cuttings and broken glass shards are, there is only one option, you have to wake yourself up. Now that you're up you decide to go down stairs to use the washroom. I mentioned you're up, but you haven't fully recovered from night brain. You feel cold but it is the middle of the night in early December, it should be cold, maybe not this cold ,but it should be cold. There's absolutely no light in the house, not even the glow usually present from the digital electronic devices. That's when you realize it's so cold because the power has been out for the last few hours. This is not a good start to the day but you're not going to turn back now, besides, now you've worked up a real need for that washroom. You've navigated this same set of stairs at least 4 or 5 times a day for the last 45 years, you can do this in your sleep. Oh, really? There's two things you can do in your sleep, one is dream, the other is sleep. You step out to probe with your foot, your heel barely catches the first nosing and your foot makes a kamikaze dive to the next tread and your toes hit in the position of a ballerina on point, except you're not wearing the shoes. Wow! The pain streaks through your ankle, up your shin, and into your knee, causing it to buckle. You are now in a swan dive toward the bottom of the stairs. This happens faster than good old Roy Rogers can draw his six shooter. Funny, even as a little kid I got suspicious after his 9th or 10th or 15th or 16th shot during those gun battles. Even at this speed your brain surprisingly has some time to ponder coming results. There are decisions to be made. You quickly decide which tread to choose to plant your hands on to slow your decent. You've chosen wrong, your body is way too far forward when your hands hit the tread. This is when Albert's equation comes to mind and you calculate how much force, the mass of your head, at the velocity it's travelling, is going to be produced when hitting that concrete basement floor. The answer is not good! Your brain is still working at super sonic speed when you remember the broken noses you suffered as a wee child. You remember them using...wait for it...Ether!, to put you under while doing an ok job on your nose, and , and, I broke it 3 times in 6 weeks. There's no way this nose is going to hit first, you snap your head to the side and sacrifice your cheek. Hey, at least the concrete is carpeted. Turns out , all that one quarter inch of pile does is add a rug burn to the injuries. Do you remember what it felt like when your face hit that floor? Yeah...me neither, but it could happen.
Loved
