Splat

One of the funniest things I've ever personally witnessed happened just a few months shy of 20 years ago. And though it's certainly not something I dwell upon, every once in a while it'll creep into my head and still give me a good case of the giggles.

Back in 1985 when the World's Fair came to Knoxville, TN, I, my cousin Jacob, and five other folks decided to go down and check it out. We pooled our money and rented a house which turned out to be this huge and beautiful farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere. It had a luscious patio, pool, stables, and loads of bedrooms.

We'd go for a few hours and check out the Fair, inevitably get bored, and head back to the house for drinking, swimming, and basically hanging out having a good time. And believe me, folks - these people we were with? They knew how to have a good time.

So there was me, and Jacob, and G & C, they were a couple back then; R, JW, who could make me break into hopeless fits of laughter with as much as a raised finger or a roll of the eye, and TM. TM was a big, fast-talking, animated teddy-bear of a fellow, country as cornbread.

One afternoon we'd spent a respectable amount of time by the pool sunning and getting sloshed. Then the clouds rolled over and a huge rain and thunderstorm washed us all inside to the dark-paneled and spacious den. We took up residence on the various couches and chairs and talked, giggled, and had an all-around good time.

Then TM got to telling us a story. What was it about? Couldn't possibly tell you. All I know is that he was talking and waving his arms, still in his swim trunks, but with a blanket draped over him. At one point in the story he rose from the couch to start walking towards us, and - one foot got hung between the blanket and floor and poor TM was thrown, whap, face down into the floor.

There were several things that made it so funny, but mostly it was how animated TM was when he was getting up off the couch, and the quick, rude, hard manner in which he was thrown to the floor. I'm not kidding. It is best described as being hurled out of a catapult, but instead of reaching maximum trajectory, being flung down flat in front of the machine. As happens sometimes.

It was a fall not many Hollywood stars could have done better. It was a fall of Keatonish proportions. It was a fall worthy of cartoons.

I don't know if TM was hurt. He was so good-natured that he laughed along with the rest of us and continued his story.

Cut to this past weekend.

I was sitting alone in the dark on the big comfy (comfier than my not-quite-as-comfy couch) burgundy leather sofa at Mr M's. It was about 2:30am, and I was enjoying a clove smoke and that really dumb follow-up they show after "The Antiques Roadshow" where they have segments about missing masterpieces and "Ooops, we were wrong when we said this was priceless, it's actually worth $17."

Suddenly I realized that there in my winter flannelly pj bottoms I was getting pretty hot, and so I got motivated enough to go over to the front door and open it to let some cool air in.

And in a stunning movement of deja-vu, I indeed got my foot caught in the green quilt I had there beside me on the sofa. And as I rose to open the door, I went hurling flat into the floor with a splat. I was holding the remote control, it went flying. My hand landed with a thud against the two VCRs and one DVD player Mr M has stacked against his living room wall.

I stayed there for a second, all sprawled out on the carpet. "Shit, I fell down," I said, almost out loud.

I stayed there a bit longer, then, realizing that nothing hurt, got back up, opened the door, and went back to the sofa. And didn't really think another thing about it.

I wasn't even thinking about it Sunday afternoon, when for the first time in about a year my hand went numb while playing the clarinet.

I didn't start thinking about it till I noticed in the car almost back in B'field that my pinky hurt. And it was still quite a bit later than that when I actually looked at the pinky.

It was swollen to about twice its size, and it was all purple. I actually hurt myself!

It was sore for a couple of days, but now the pain is gone, the swelling's gone, and it's only slightly mauve.

So it was a non-event. Except - except it got me to thinking about that afternoon in 1985 and how hard we laughed at TM when he went hurling to the floor. And I've thought about it many times since.

And that, my friends, was worth a swollen purple pinky.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Well, folks, we have a new Pope. Benedict. It's no Clement or Innocent, but it ain't bad. He may or may not be related to the guy who played Cliff on "Cheers," and he's as far as I know the first Pope who was also a member of the Hitler Youth. But he swears he was forced into it. I hope he's telling the truth.
* We have Acrowinners! So why are we so afraid of taxes?
Honorable Mention: Flipsycab, with "Republicans possessing our bleak earnings."
Runner-up: DeepFatFriar, with "Regular people, often broke, extorted."
And this week's winner: Stennie, with "Refund puny, only buys envelope."
Thanks to all who played! You've all done very well!