Last night, while working in the cooler, a crate of milk slipped out of my hands. I had a mere 1.0342302 seconds (give or take a millisecond) to save one or more of my precious toes and/or foot from being crushed under its weight. You would have been mightily impressed by the quickness and nimbleness I displayed in snatching this Crate Of Doom just in the nick of time. As I sit here typing this missive, my toes and/or foot are miraculously whole and unbruised.
Oh, how I wish they weren’t!
The trade-off was the alignment of my back. Apparently, it objected to being called upon to bear the weight of 34 pounds of milk so suddenly. It’s voicing this objection right now, in loud tones, the melody to which is: “Let it drop / let it drop / you shoulda let it drop.”
Needless to say, I’m not moving very quickly or nimbly today. Instead I’m reading a Civil War book I picked up yesterday, The Commanders of Chancellorsville – The Gentleman Versus The Rogue (Robert E. Lee being the gentleman, Joe Hooker the rogue) by Edward G. Longacre. For those of you unfamiliar with American Civil War history, the Confederates won the battle of Chancellorsville–in large part–by scaring the bejesus out of the Union Army. The tradeoff was the loss of Stonewall Jackson. It’s worth renting the otherwise yawn-inspiring movie, Gods and Generals, (based on Jeff Shaara’s very excellent book of the same name) just to see this battle enacted.