Definitely Not Me

Like many boys, I thought about joining the circus. I was never afraid of heights and the trapeze looked like fun. I was pretty sure of my footing. When I was young and engaged, Barbara thought I was crazy for fearlessly walking across logs or close to edges.

I’m still good at balance when it comes to balancing things on my head, but I seem to have lost all sense of balance in my legs. I’ve been become a class-A klutz.

Last week, I was at a miniature golf course. This course has several water traps, cement ponds that are fed by cement streams. The water was turned off in the one stream and there was a layer of slimy mud at the bottom. Someone in my group knocked their ball into the water trap and I went down to get it.

When my left foot hit the slime, it went flying in the air. I went flying too, bending my right knee back under my derriere, and landing hard on my back in the slime. Somehow in the maneuver, I skinned my shin.

This was only one of many recent tricks gone bad. In the past few years, I’ve done myself a lot of damage with unplanned acrobatics. I know that some of our physical prowess diminishes with age, but I just don’t want to admit that I may need to tone it down a bit.

I do keep telling myself that I’m not as agile as I once was, but I always seem to forget it in the moment where some cat-like antics are required. I called out, “I’ll get it!” just before I went flying.

It wasn’t just that I was stupid enough to volunteer. I also took the more hazardous route, not thinking that I had anything to worry about. I probably could have walked around to the other side of the pond where there was a net for fishing out golf balls.

In a way, I was protecting my client, who was also going to step right where I did to get the ball out. I suppose I took the fall for him.

It’s not just this kind of fall. A few years ago, I drove over a very round long while on an ATV and ended up flying over the handlebars. Skinned my leg that time too. I really peeled off the skin in my lower shin when I misstepped at another miniature golf course while horsing around with a friend.

Well, it won’t do my self-esteem any good to give a more complete inventory than that. It’s quite a long list. Let’s just say that I need to figure out how to take it easy, act my age, as it were.

Therein lies my dilemma. Just what is “acting my age?” I’m not even 60 yet.

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