Day 51. Job security

When you are an adventure seeker you have to be prepared to have a few bumps in the road. I am going to start this section by relaying a memory that was given to me, by that I mean I have heard the story so many times that it is almost as if I can actually remember the event. We all have memories like that, the

ones that you probably never really new to begin with, but now you could tell what type of day it was, the color of the shirt you were wearing, or the smell of the flowers in the garden.

So this story starts like this, it was my dad's work picnic and we all headed to the local park to take part in the day. These were the days when companies had people assigned to work the event - and they went to great lengths to make sure everyone had a good time. There was always plenty of food, hot grills, and liquid refreshments in the form of beer and soda. The park was in full bloom so you could smell the clean crisp air sprinkled with bits and pieces of fragrant flowers that dotted the park.

Kids were playing games, badminton, penny scramble, wheelbarrow and three-legged races. Music played from someone's battery powered transistor radio. I was doing my best to run around the park and find all the hidden clues to the scavenger hunt that would take place later that day. In my journey around the area I found an empty beer bottle. I had remembered seeing people sing and dance when they were drinking so I thought it would be funny to imitate them. I climbed up on top of the closest picnic table and started to dance to the music. People were laughing and pointing, so I continued to be goofy. Twirling around, beer bottle in hand, the music was playing loudly in my ears. I stopped and used the beer as if it were a microphone. I was center stage and all eyes were on me. That is except for the man from the party that decided to sit on the bench portion of the picnic table.

Some picnic tables are sturdy, built to last a lifetime. Others not so much, the bolts rusting or coming loose to the point that the entire table can wiggle back and forth; I had picked this table mainly because it had that important element that would allow me to teeter-totter on it for more dance effect. The problem with that is when someone then sits on a side of the table it becomes more of a slingshot than a stage. With one final ‘thump’ of his but on the bench I found myself hurtling through the air, beer bottle in hand, until I came crashing down onto the ground.

Somehow in my flight I had moved my hand with the bottle in it near the top of my face, most likely bracing for impact. The bottle hit first, splitting into sharp shards of glass, then my head landed on the glass. A nice inch long gash opened on the top of my head and blood started to stream down my face. I am not sure if you are aware of this, but your head had many blood vessels lining it, making it seem like I was losing more blood than what was in reality a very small amount. That fact must have been lost on the women in the crowd, all of whom came running to my aid. 

The rest are more memories that were either told to me about the day or things I filled in on my own to figure out what happened next. 

I was raced in my mom’s arms to our car, we sped to the closest emergency room where a good looking doctor from one of my mom’s television shows (remember these memories are from my imagination, so of course he was a tall handsome doctor) cleaned me up and provided me with 4 brand new stitches and a sucker for bravery. It was a good afternoon and I vowed never to be so clumsy as to end up on the receiving end of such a talented seamstress ever again. 

If only someone would have told my body that it would have saved me many return trips. In fact, I think I was the main reason many of the emergency rooms in the area remained in business during those early years in Cudahy. 

There was the time my brother, Gary, decided to help me learn to ride a two-wheeler. He had been running behind my bike all day, holding onto the seat. I was getting pretty good, and fairly confident. We went down the sidewalk in front of our house so many times I think I was wearing marks in the cement from my trail. The last time he let go of the seat and I soloed the remaining length of the block. I was beaming ear to ear. Two more solo trips followed. I was ready to show the world. Judy ran in the house to get my parents and Gary and I geared up for my premiere solo flight, complete with audience. We were at the end of the block, near a corner house so that I could travel the full length. I saw my sisters and dad come out of the house and stand on our front porch. “Ready?” came Gary’s voice. “Ready!” I replied. Gary gave me a shove to start me out, but in his excitement he pushed a little harder than I was ready for and I hit the brakes. Instead of remaining on the bike and starting over, the frame made a quick lunge forward; my tire fell into the gap between the sidewalk and the lawn and stopped dead. I, however, continued on the trajectory set in motion and went head first into the gravel pit near the road. 

You know that sound you hear in your head right before it hits the ground? Well this was even louder and included a strong stab of pain, followed by the all too familiar warm feeling of blood escaping from my head.

I didn’t even have a chance to cry before I heard Gary gasp and Ginny scream from the porch. The next thing I knew I was being picked up in my neighbor’s arms, then passed on to his wife, and finally handed off to my dad. He carried me back to the car. Ginny appeared from no-where with the keys. Gary, Judy and Ginny jumped in the back seat while I sat next to my dad in the front, a towel now covering my throbbing head. We arrived in just a few minutes at the doors of the hospital and headed to the admitting desk, where my mom – who had just started working at this job the day before, was working. I bet she never guessed that the first person she was going to admit that day would be her own daughter! I sat in the waiting room and when the time came to be stitched up, she held my hand as they covered my face with a blue towel to isolate the area. I squeezed her hand tightly as the needle went into my skin and then the burning sensation slowly started, then left as my forehead became numb. A few minutes later I was sitting up and holding yet another sucker in my hand for bravery. If this place was going to remain in business, they had better stock up on sewing thread and lollipops. By this point stitches no longer scared me and knowing my mom would be there to hold my hand when I needed her made the memory of the pain disappear.

I gave Gary a hug when I saw him in the waiting room. He looked so sad that he had caused me to get hurt, but it was just my destiny and he shouldn’t have to shoulder that guilt. He was, after all, my hero because he taught me something that would in later years prove to be my greatest asset. My ability to escape from the world and go for a ride on my bike!