We are in the thick of a hot, sticky summer, even though school is already back in. In my mind, summer doesn't really end here until October or some-such, no matter when they say it's "Fall Semester." We did have a breezy few days last week but the mosquitoes aren't giving up. I was sitting in church yesterday, trying to keep my paws off my itchy legs...the result of Friday night's backyard swinging with some of our grandchildren. What a weekend...
Saturday morning I headed out early to show houses, all organized and ready. I thank God for technology (some days) because the fancy tire doohicky on my Ford Explorer began to show me a rapidly-deflating tire on the left front of my car...all while I was doing 75 miles an hour. When I stopped at a nearby gas station, I saw that there was a hole blowing air on the sidewall of the tire. If the car hadn't told me I was getting a flat, I'm pretty sure it would have blown out and I'd have been in a much worse situation. Our firefighter son, Daniel, happened to be ten minutes away. I was in a dress and in a hurry to meet my clients and he headed right to me. Meanwhile, I pulled the spare out of the back of the car and tried to get the jack untangled and ready, grease getting all over my hands. I heard a loud whistle from across the busy parking lot of the gas station emanating from a heavily-bearded man. He gestured at my clothing. To my horror, I realized that my dress was tucked up into my underwear. Every middle-school-girl's worst nightmare. He didn't come over and offer to help me with my flat tire, but I guess he did help me in his own way.
Eventually, our son got there and fixed me up and I headed out again, though limping with that spare. I had a long drive and plenty of time to lower my blood pressure and think about the many embarrassing situations I've found myself in. I am often preoccupied, not careful about my physical surroundings. You wouldn't know it to look at me, but I sometimes forget to eat and forget to pay attention to anything but my thoughts or the conversation I'm in with another person or the job I'm working on. This leads to some mayhem.
Clothes being tucked up into my underwear is no stranger to me, and back in the 70s, when those silky shirts were a thing, I've been known to suddenly expose my bra to unsuspecting people.
Then there are the falls. Ballards are a real hazard in my world. I've tripped over several, while vacuuming out my car, loading up groceries, going into the doctor's office and arriving for parades. Once, I face-planted on asphalt at a baseball game with my daughter because we were hurrying and I didn't see an object in my path. That one made me hurt for months. Then there was one of my daughter-in-love's shower, where I was in the midst of countless strangers. As I began to sit down, I narrowly missed the chair and took out two church ladies (but miraculously didn't lose any of my lemonade in the process. I might have priorities...). The absolute worst was when I was on tour in Italy with our wind ensemble and I nearly fell in between our gondola and the dock, into the inky black water beneath (it was late at night)...but instead knocked over one of my friends in the process. There's a theme here and I imagine I might need to get myself in gear. Time's marching on and takes no prisoners. I don't think of myself as clumsy...I was heavily recruited to play college basketball, am an artist and musician, using all those physical tools, but apparently I might still be a klutz and ding-y at times, despite my protestations.
What embarrassment does for our character is keep us humble. About the time we think ourselves masters of the universe, a little dog poop or toilet paper invariably makes its way onto our shoes. When Mr. Beard hailed me about my unholy underwear and dimpled, white, unsummered legs showing, I did the best thing I could -- wave and laugh. If you can't chuckle at the absurdity of life, well, you're just missing out. But I might need to pay more attention to those ledges and stairwells, just sayin'...
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