Saturday night, I broke my left wrist.
It was just about the stupidest accident possible: I was at the top of Lawrence’s stairs, lost my balance, and fell all the way to the bottom of the stairs. I gather it was quite spectacular to watch: as best as I can remember, it was somewhat spectacular to experience.
The broken wrist is the worst of it: I have a few bruises, but no head injuries and nothing else broken.
This is just to say that I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox…er, I mean, blogging might be a little slow while I deal with the fallout from this.
Post the video. I crave entertainment.
I wish you safe and uneventful healing. I played football for 9 years, and broke my wrist in one of my early years. It also broke my heart, as I loved football, and hated to miss the remainder of the season.
I have lately been watching some movies related to America’s previous wars, including both world wars and some of the wars on terror, in the sandbox. I am thinking of your previous post about the barrage balloon troops on D-Day.
Some of the films that I have seen, mostly on Amazon Prime, have been documentaries, and they have shown the bravery and heroism of ordinary men, mostly very young, who were thrust into situations that they ordinarily would never have been involved with, and not even able to imagine going through. Yet they were to not only meet the battles with courage and heroism, but oftentimes continued while wounded with such injuries that would make them curl up into a fetal position in normal times.
I am reminded of the time that I saw a young man, basically a hoodlum, being interviewed by Tom Brokaw, along with an old man. The young man, aged 17, was always in trouble, mostly just being a trouble maker.
After one round of questions of the kid, Brokaw asked the old man, ” What were you doing at age 17 “?
Without hesitation, the gray haired man answered, ” Fighting on Guadalcanal?”
I think that perhaps was the most moving few words that I ever heard on television, if not in any forum, including in real life face to face. We often forget just how young some of the ” Greatest Generation” was, when they stepped up to defend our nation from the Axis Powers, during the Second World War. At my age, 61, I am only a few years too young to have been involved in Vietnam and having the ability to serve there.
I just was struck with the mark that even merely SEEING the things that occurred on D-Day could leave on the Psyche of a young man, something that could stay with you until the day you die. The documentaries that I have watched often had interviews, with men who served in WWII. And when bringing to mind the firefights, or major battles, and the friends lost, etc. of some 75 years ago, these 80 + year old men would still break down in tears, at the friends that they lost, sometimes in foxholes right next to them.
I just had to thank you, for the mention of Henry Parham, and his service to America. He represents to me, the many thousands of other young men who willingly gave up their own freedom to defend America, and then, after the war was over, they came back and for most of the, simply went on to try and live a normal life, without any help or support from anyone.
Again, I wish you speedy healing, and extend my support for you taking things easy until you can go full speed ahead. Stay cautious at the top of stairs, or stock up on bubble wrap.
The most amazing thing is that this fall didn’t involve Buddy in any way.
This is true. While I could blame it on a dog, there were no dogs involved in my fall at all, and it would be unethical for me to do so.
I reserve the dog blaming for passing gas, not self-inflicted injuries.
Thank you, tim. I am deeply touched both by your kind words and your eloquence about Henry Parham and all the other WWII vets.