Falling

I hope that I am not alone in saying that I get a good chuckle when someone falls down. The fall is, after all, a staple of slapstick comedy. Who hasn't laughed at Elmer Fudd running through a hollow log only to find himself suddenly hovering in the air hundreds of feet above the ground. I still laugh every time. Likewise, I still laugh every time my father tells the story of how his own father kept falling every time the hay wagon moved. I can also recall with a certain amount of amusement the evening when my mother and I were driving home from town together. We stopped at the gas station to fill up. Mom was still talking to me as she turned off the vehicle, opened her door, stepped out, and disappeared.

I can also recall those times when in high school, I would race with friends to determine who got to ride "shotgun" in the vehicle in which we would "cruise" after classes ended for the day. I made quite a spectacle of myself more than once. My arms would windmill, my feet would leave the ground, I would suddenly find myself looking skyward, and I would land on the ground with a mighty crash, causing me to lose my chance for the front seat of the car and a little of my pride. Nevertheless, it was still a good, clean, funny fall.

Recently, however, falling has become less humorous to me. With the snowing, the daytime melting, and the frigid nighttime temperatures, St. Paul is treacherous for the pedestrian. And I happen to be one of those pedestrians. I walk most evenings, and feel like a milk cow on roller skates. While in the past, I was never really conscious of whether or not I carried a cellular phone while walking, I now make the very deliberate decision to carry one with me. I am not interested in descending into hypothermia should I fall and not be able to get back up. What is more, I am coming to realize that falling hurts. I am not old by any means, but I am reaching an age where I am beginning to realize that there are things for which the human body is and is not made. Swan dives in the parking lot (regardless of how funny they may seem) are among the things for which I am not made.

Unfortunately, I suspect that there are still a good many falls to accomplish before winter is over. I have averaged about one every month since there has been something to slip on. It looks to be a long time before the slip hazards melt. Until then, happy landing.