The Tao of D'oh ! ( humour )

We all have those moments in our lives when the carefully cultured exterior we construct and present to the world is shattered by an act of our own simple stupidity.

Let me share some of mine.

I was in the first grade ( I believe ) and we were all running around playing tag in the schoolyard. I was being chased, and running at full speed. I looked over my shoulder, to see where the kid chasing me was - and then looked back in front of me...

"Mr Forehead ? "

"Yes ?"

"Meet Mr. Monkey Bar..."

The resulting impact( which may explain a lot about me in the years that followed) was a wonderful example of physics first hand.

I still have a slight dent in my forehead. I had to get stitches ( I forget how many) without any anesthetic. It was a Sesame Street version of that scene in Blackhawk Down where they work on that soldier.

Sadly, I had not yet learned to swear.

As a slightly older child, ( pre-teen) I received a pen knife. My mother was against it, but figured it was a male child's right of passage. She allowed it, with some trepidation.

I was as happy as a clam ( and have you ever seen a depressed clam, btw ? ) and was so proud to now finally be a " MAN " . My mother was at work, and so I decided to make sure it was exceptionally sharp. They had these sharpners in those days that were interlocking steel wheels with a wooden handle, and you drew the knife down hard between them to sharpen it.

I went and got the one we had in the kitchen drawer.

I sat on the sofa, and began to work at my task. I sharpened it by pressing as hard as I possibly could. I took a newspaper, and slashed at it.

Voila. Almost like Zorro, the paper was sliced perfectly.

Still not sharp enough for me though.

So back to work ... Pass after pass, minute after minute, harder and harder - the blade was starting to actually get warm to the touch.

Then it slipped, and I noticed something quite unusual.

The jeans covering my thigh were sliced open in about a three inch slash. So was my flesh , to about a two inch depth.... Blood was spurting out, and then the pain began. The knife had been so sharp it actually had not hurt...for about 3 secs.

I ripped off my T-shirt, and forced it against the wound. I took my belt off, and secured it. I then realized I was ok, and that I could now wait for my mother to get home from work.

That was a quite a wonderful conversation, btw.

Needless to say, the knife and I quickly parted ways. It was only when I was an adult that I got another one.

I still haven't dared sharpen it.

Then there was the time I first decided to completely shave my head, a few years ago. That's initially a tough decision for any man to make, as one never knows quite how one will look when finished. It's like a scratch-and-win for the follicly challenged.

It was summer, and exceptionally hot. I made the decision this was the time.

I got out my trusty Twinblade and the shaving cream. I started to work diligently at the task now before me. That's the thing about shaving your head totally, one cannot stop once started. It is a road that, once taken, must be followed to it's end.

I quickly concentrated on the job at hand, and refused to even look in the mirror until after I was finished. As I was rinsing the blade, I noticed the water in the sink seemed a bit dirty. I found that a bit strange, but kept going. Nothing was going to distract me.

Then my ex-wife walked by, and looked in the bathroom...

The expression of utter shock on her face was a bit confusing, and so I turned to look at my reflection in the mirror. The top of my head looked like I was wearing a red beanie. That "dirt" had actually been blood from about two dozen or so cuts.

The good part?

I didn't get the razor taken away from me.

Being an adult is GREAT !

I'll stop there for today.