Hugh Neeld: The Curmudgeon Report

Falling down is something I’ve become good at in recent years. My most recent experience in rapid decent occurred on a Saturday in June as I was trimming the hedge in our front flower bed. In order to get to the side of the hedge next to the house, I had gotten up into the raised bed.

Reaching as far as I could with the electric trimmer, my feet became entangled with some low-growing branches and I lost my balance. Fortunately I released the trigger of the trimmer (thereby avoiding becoming a double amputee), but unfortunately fell and scraped my exposed arm on the brick of the house.

Because of a blood-thinner I take, even a small cut or scrape will look like hog slaughtering time down on the farm. Knowing my propensity for bleeding freely, my wife keeps enough gauze, tape and bandages in stock to treat a professional football team. I looked like something from The Mummy’s Revenge for awhile, but with a little healing was soon good to go.

What’s funny is that this falling down thing is not a recent development. As a baby, according to my mother, I fell more than was normal (how she knew this I don’t know). Even after I’d learned to walk I lacked the grace to do so without falling. Skinned knees and elbows were my constant companions. As I got older and learned such things as climbing trees, roller skating and riding a bicycle, the falling intensified

When I finally got to high school, things in the falling department improved. I could even dance without high anxiety. By the time I joined the Navy I actually felt that I could move with the grace of a panther. This feeling came to an abrupt end when my ship returned to San Diego from overseas.

One of my jobs was manning the liberty boat which took our sailors to shore. I got that duty twice a week. An officer on one of the ships in the bay was always met at the landing by his wife and twin teen-age daughters. I spent lots of time thinking of ways to catch their eye. One day I was in the bow of the liberty boat waiting to jump out and tie us up as we came alongside the dock. I saw the twins when we were 50 yards out.

Determined to be noticed, I gave a mighty leap, line in hand, as we glided swiftly in. Due to a slight miscalculation I hit the side of the dock chest high and fell back into the water. Sailors on the dock pulled me out with the aid of a boathook.

This wasn’t exactly falling down, but it had many of the same characteristics. It certainly engendered the same feelings of any fall I’d ever taken. I do believe, however, that I got the twins’ attention.

After my discharge, I had evidently developed the balance and coordination to avoid any falls of consequence, until my already mentioned recent years.

I often think of the falls I took in those early years and the ones I’ve experienced lately. It seems as though life has finally come full circle.

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A question to ponder:

When you fall down, do you wonder what else you can do while you’re down there?

putterhugh@suddenlink.net

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Hugh Neeld is a freelance columnist for TylerPaper.com.

Hugh Neeld is a freelance columnist for TylerPaper.com.
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