:: A trip, then fall, down memory lane ::

Thursday, March 18, 2004

Two embarrassing memories which, for unknown reasons, happen to be the two upon which I am dwelling at the moment.

One: Winter, 1995. Having just undergone surgery to repair a broken toe and burdened with a cast running halfway up my shin (my medial cuneiform bone had snapped in half and the segment attached to my big toe had sheared off from the segment still clinging to the rest of my foot - it took two operations and an equal number of surgical screws [$75 each] to bring me back to tip-top shape. The incident permanently derailed my budding jai-alai career), I asked my teacher whether I would have to accompany the entire class on our annual physics day ski trip. He equivocated, but dropped several hints that it wouldn't be worth my time. Unable to read between the lines, I went along anyway. The day consisted of sitting in the resort cafeteria until my friends were finished with their "experiments" ("Hey kids, when you went up in the lift you acquired potential energy. When you skied down, you used it up. Now go and do it again!") and then being pelted with snowballs by said same friends after being falsely accused of slinging a nasty insult. When asked later why he had insisted I join this entirely useless endeavor, my teacher shook his head and replied that even though school policy prevented him from stating it outright, he had done everything short of using hand puppets to insinuate that I should stay home. I would have been spared the events of that day were it not for my daft inability to read social cues. Conclusion: humiliation on multiple levels.

Two: Summer, 1997. Two chums and myself accompany another friend to the graduation ceremony of his old high school in Frankfurt mere hours after a long trans-Atlantic journey. My minimal enthusiasm at having to attend was augmented when I learned that the guest speaker would be one Dr. Jane Goodall, acclaimed expert on human-primate relations and all things ape. Not wanting to miss what would likely be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to hear the good doctor speak, I sat up in my chair and attenuated with perked ears as she took the stage. Moments later, I was startled awake by the appreciative applause of the audience to watch Dr. Goodall shake some hands and take her seat, acutely aware, thanks not only to a heavy fog of disorientation but also the glares of reprobation from parents and faculty alike, that I had slept through the entire speech. Willkommen zur Verlegenheit-stadt. Years later, after losing touch, I would run into the friend who brought us there and, for some weird reason I can't explain, this memory would be the first thing that popped into my head.

Fear not though; tomorrow is a new day, with brand new regrets.

Posted by morland @ 11:23 PM

:: Comments ::

Don't forget that time in college when....oh forget it. This could go on for days.

Posted by: karen on March 18, 2004 11:45 PM

Dude - you called me a very bad name (although, in truth, if I were a Brit I wouldn't have minded half as much) and you got what you deserved.

It's not not my fault you tend to attract hostile mobs. Okay well that time it was. But lots of times, lots of times it isn't.

Posted by: on March 19, 2004 09:33 AM

I had forgotten about the prosthetic foot they gave you. How is the old peg leg?

And, yes, I also hate it when we dwell on stupid shit, especially that which happened at our mutual place of education.

Like the Onion headline states, "Clinton feels Nation's pain, breasts."

Posted by: The guy who lives in vail on March 22, 2004 02:23 PM

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