The Nose

In 2001 when I broke my ankle, the irritating thing for me was the story! If I had done something sporty or heroic, I could have had a great story out of it. But, I was taking out the garbage and I slipped.

It was dramatic for me, laying in the garage, unable to get up, with my head shoved into the front tire. I had to crawl to the garage door into the house to bang on it. It even required an operation, but alas, even with sympathy, it still was a garbage accident!

Earlier this year I met a young artist on crutches and I asked him what had happened and he told me that he and his girlfriend were in a bus accident when it slid off of a mountain road in Peru! Crap! I had a garbage accident!

Now I’ve done it again! I smashed my nose! I have tried, with a straight face to explain it as a bar room fight or beating up a mugger (in Canada this would make me a criminal) but to no avail. I closed the back hatch of my Explorer onto my nose!

So here I sit with a broken toe and a smashed nose, all self inflicted, and not even in some dramatic suicide plot, just dumb luck! (Or, as my wife would claim, some form of dementia.)