Future Priests of the Third Millennium

A little insight into the life of seminarians from various dioceses preparing for ministry as Roman Catholic priests, including daily activities, personal interests, special events, the spiritual life, news from the seminary, and almost whatever comes to our minds!



Thursday, February 14, 2008

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.

1 comment:

J. Thorp said...

I say without any ego that I rarely fall down. It is not due to natural grace in any typical sense of the notion, but rather a steadfast determination (born of years as a lesser wrestler) not to go down.

As a result, with me you see:

The Slip-Stop, in which every second or third step results in loss of footing with one foot and quick regaining with the other, like a dance with no rhythm.

The Windmill-Stomp, in which I miss a step, catch a toe, or otherwise find myself falling rapidly forward and windmilling both arms while throwing my size 13s out in front of me in grim determination to stay vertical.

The Finger-Tipper, in which my gyrations bring me close enough to falling that the fingertips of one hand are all that stands between me and utter sprawl.

The Corkscrew, in which I wind up vertical but off-center, facing some other direction that the one from which I started, and with various parts strewn about me.*

All of these can be immensely entertaining to watch, as well, judging from the response of frequent audience members such as my wife and children. And they are increasingly painful -- the Windmill Stomp and Corkscrew, in particular, tend to result in pulled muscles in my neck, back and hamstrings.

I do actually hit the ground every so often. Generally it's a Slip-Stop transformed into a reverse Windmill Stomp -- much more difficult to execute backwards, especially with a Slip-Stop already underway.

When this happens, I generally pretend to make snow angels while I search the sky for my lost wind ...

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*Like a NASCAR crash, shedding parts dissipates much of the energy your body might otherwise absorb on impact ...

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