When Whimsy Attacks

As I was going through old photographs, I found evidence of some vintage moron tax.

I spent a year in England during college. During that time, some friends and I visited a pretty park that overlooked the famed Dover Cliffs. The park itself was made of small rolling hills covered with lush, green grass. While strolling there, my Swedish friend Lotta and I became seized with the desire to logroll down one of the hills, as we remembered we did as kids back home. I think we imagined that we'd emerge at the bottom giggling and renewed with sweet memories of our youth.

Reality, of course, trumps nostalgia. And the reality is that a body rolls down a hill faster than one would think. Also, one's feet and legs roll quite a lot faster than one's shoulders so that a person doesn't roll in a linear direction as much as swivel awkwardly around the torso. Despite the short length of the slope, Lotta and I had to reposition and relaunch our rolling at least twice. There is also the matter of the head which is not stable or supported. In fact, it bounces against the ground with a thunk thunk for every rotation.

My friend Kevin -- who was always smarter than the rest of us -- predicted what was going to happen. As Lotta and I took our positions at the top of the hill, he waited at the bottom with his camera.

Kevin snapped this picture (below) shortly after we started our descent.


Kevin took this picture (below) when I finally came to a rest -- dizzy, bruised and moaning. I had to lie there for several minutes before I could stand without vomiting.

Brave v. Stupid

There are many times in my life when I do not know if I am being brave or stupid. Is the person charging outside with a baseball bat when she hears the backyard gate open a titan of fearlessness or a potential Darwin Award winner? Or what about the female jogger who gives the middle finger (with both hands) to the two evidently-drunk men hurling sexual comments?

This Fourth of July I decided to do a three day backpacking trip to an alpine lake situated about ten miles into a national forest. I also decided to do the trip alone. Several friends tried to dissuade me, encouraging me to postpone the hike until I could find a partner. I, however, felt adamant that I did not want to waste long weekend of beautiful weather at home, on my couch, watching reruns of Sex in the City.

I drove about five hours on the highway and another one and a half on an unmaintained country road to reach the trailhead to my hike. I put on my heavy backpack and started walking up the long switchbacks toward the mountain pass. When I reached a small meadow at the top of the mountain, I stopped to camp for the night. I pitched my tent below a tree canopy. The ground all all around me was covered with twigs that crunched beneath each step. I placed my plastic bear canister containing all my food about fifty feet away from my tent and settled in for the night.

At about eleven o'clock, I bolted awake to the sound of banging plastic. Oh my god, is it a bear? My heart thumped hard against my rib cage. The night was completely dark, and I could not see past my tent walls. I had no idea what was out there. I froze, listening. I could hear twigs crunching not far from tent and in the direction of the bear canister. Then, appallingly, the crunching came closer. Something was walking towards me. I held my breath. The crunching came to a stop just outside the entrance of my tent. The animal was so close to me, I could hear it sniffing the ground. I almost peed in my sleeping bag.

In a full throttled panic, I grabbed my headlamp, turned it on, and frantically flashed its light in all directions within my tent. A couple of years ago I had come up with the unsupported and until-now-untested theory that wild animals would not attack a person with a headlamp. A mountain lion, as the theory goes, would conclude that the food it commonly eats, such as deer, does not typically emit artificial light. Of course, I failed to consider the possibility that a wild animal suddenly frighted might attack rather than flee.

Luckily, the animal outside my tent was startled by the light and swiftly ran from the spot. I was feeling victorious and almost proud of my quick thinking until I noticed a familiar-sounding metal jangle as the animal moved away. I poked my head out of the tent and, to my embarrassment, saw a large dog jogging back to its owners who had just arrived at the meadow to set up their own camp. They stood only a few yards away and must have witnessed my bizarre light show. Though it was dark, I was sure I could see them suppressing some laughter.

More Bathroom Follies

I treat my visits to public bathrooms like NASCAR pit stops. I tend to sprint into the bathroom at the last moment (though it occasionally costs me moron tax) and have a inside-the-stall procedure that maximizes efficiency. I stick to the basics -- pants come down, pants come up -- I don't spend time checking myself in the mirror or adjusting my clothes. My typical bathroom visit clocks in at less than two minutes.

Once in a while, a small error in my bathroom routine occurs. And, because I am usually in such a hurry, I don't catch it until I am out the door. Here's an example from a few months ago:

It was a hot, sunny afternoon, and I took a stroll around the office. When I got back to the office, I went to the bathroom. I laid the toilet seat cover on the toilet, did my business, and dressed. Unfortunately, I did not notice that I was a little sweaty from my walk. I also failed to notice that much of the toilet seat cover had consequently stuck to my skin, rather than follow its destiny down the toilet. When I pulled up my pants, I pushed up the toilet seat cover, scrunching it up to (and slightly past) my waistband. I did not notice this either. It was not until an hour later that I noticed a light crunching sound when I walked but that stopped when I stopped. I paused, reached to scratch my back, and felt rumpled paper. Confused, I tugged at the paper. While standing in the hallway, I pulled out the full length of the toilet set cover which unfolded like an accordian in my hands.