Great work Bill. we will await your reports
here come another story/true as usual
I had the job of lining all of the soccer fields in my town for 30 years. It was enjoyable because i was doing something for the kids. unfortunately, i have had serious back problems for over 50 years. that problem was often exacerbated by the lifting and pouring of paint from 5 gallon pails as many time in a day as it took to do the job. sometimes, my back was killing me, but the job had to be done.
One day, about five years ago, (i was 72 ... er...39 at the time) i was preparing several fields for a soccer tournament that was coming up. I also had a pile of extra work to be done at my landscaping biz and time was running short for both projects. I had finished about five fields already that particular morning and had jogged, sort of, the whole way. I was just starting the last field and would be finished well before noon, Almost a record to get so many fields done so quickly.
As I had gotten one end of the field lined, a girls soccer team showed up for practice. their first order of business was to jog around the field. 75x108 yards. I have always loved to run myself, having been a dash man in HS many moons ago. I sort of watched as they came up behind me at a pretty fair clip. They caught up with me just as i reached the corner of the 108 side of the field. as the two lead girls pulled along side of me, i stepped up my own pace to stay just ahead of them. they stepped up their pace. i stepped up my pace. By the time we had gotten to the far end of the field, the girls were only a few steps ahead of me. the big difference was that they continued the same pace the rest of the way around the field. ME, i was pooped. i wanted to die right there, but i finished the entire field at a fairly rapid pace so none of my spectators would even THINK that i was in the least bit tired.
Even tho i was technically physically done for for the rest of the day, i did manage to complete my scheduled landscaping after non lunch. By non lunch, i mean i did not dare sit down to eat as i knew i woud never get up again. Anyhow, i must have put up a good front, as niether the girls nor the coaches offered to help me around the rest of the field :-[
By evening, i felt rested enough for my regular meal, helpings sized large enough i won't go into now. i probably did my usual load of bookkeeping and an hour or so of TV with my eyes closed and mouth open before heading for the sack for much needed rest.
Next morning, Saturday, I awoke with the idea that i would put feet to floor and get ready for breakfast. My mind told me what to do. My body paid no attention. As i tried to put feet to floor, I let out a screem. my back was killing me>>> Big Time. this had happened a few times during my days as a mason and there were times when i had to crawl on the scaffold to do my work. this time, crawling was worse than any agony i had ever experienced. my wife was horrified and frightened for me as she watched me drag myself around on the floor using only my right elbow. That to me was a relief
. i could not even roll over to my left side. that was not so bad, but when i had to go relieve my bladder, i had to drag myself, chin first, up over the bowl. i have heard of guys doing this after a rough nite on the town, but i thought this was rediculous.
Wife tried to call Dr. M, our everloving chiropractor, but, being Saturday, he was not in his office. I have had his business card for 28 years now, but never thought to get his home, or cell phone number (an omission that has since been rectified, believe me) i told wife not to worry, i would recover. she panicked and called our daughter, who lives in DC and told her the situation. ten minutes later, Dr. M was on the phone. It seems our daughter merely picked up a phone book at her place of biz and phoned long distance. Now, i ask you, who in H--- ever uses a phone book?
Dr. M asked where i lived. I said, "don't worry, Doc, i will come to your office whenever you can get there."
"How are you going to do that?"
"We have station wagon and my wife can help me crawl up into the back"
How in heck are you going to climb into your car when you can't even crawl on the ground?"
I had to give in.
A half hour later, our faithful golden was announcing the arrival of a visitor. she usually would raise quite a din, but this time, she only barked once as if to say, "Where have you been?" She shepparded Dr. M right thru the house to where I was lieing so uncomfortably on the bed. as he walked into the room, the dog jumped right beside me so she could supervise the whole operation. When Dr. M left, i was able to walk to the door with him.
He told me the next day (He had me come to his office on sunday morning) that when he first got out of his car, he felt our dog looked to be spoiled. as she led him thru the hallway, he was sure she was spoiled. when he saw her jump onto the bed, and no body told her to get down, he KNEW SHE WAS SPOILED.
Bill, John, Bob and all the rest of you out there (or here on the FOG) take care of your health and bodies. It is so very important.
Oh yes, i forgot the gag line to this tale. the scuttlebutt around my friends was that "Tinker is just a horney old F--t."
Take care guys and girls
Tinker
