On a wheeled horse I ride. i.am.rollerman

Archive for November, 2009|Monthly archive page

It’s Amazing What Those Little White Pills Do.

In spinal cord injury on November 13, 2009 at 5:38 pm

From the depths of despair I have returned. For me, it’s typically a five minute stop every two weeks. For those longer layovers, it’s caused by an imbalance of chemistry.

I beat the odds. Like I’ve stated in earlier posts, most who fall from that height don’t live. Death is immediate and sudden. In my case, being a Type A personality, death was not feasible. It was like getting an “F” in a course that I normally received an “A.” It just was not acceptable.

Hurdle number one: ARDS, Adult Respitory Distress Syndrome. Only one in three adults survive. I got an “A” on this test with the help of a two month coma.

I’ll pick this up later….


My neighbor, Mr. No’efinmuffler

In Neighbors on November 8, 2009 at 9:21 pm

It’s another weekend morning in my appearance conscious neighborhood of Hillside Acres. It’s never a weekend day without someone primping their lawn or improving their property, this party’s Wife included. Never is that activity more prevalent than in the fall.

I used to love the fall until I had my fall. Now I’m just a sideline participant watching all of the yard duties that I used to love doing, dressed in my shorts, sweatshirt and an MP3 Player, raking, dancing and singing like the Town Idiot. I didn’t care if the Giants or Jets were on; Sunday was for yard work and watching people pick up their Sunday New York Times at Terri’s Market across the street.

The fall was also my foreplay, as winter, my true love, with skiing was just after that last tarp full of leaves…next weekend was the lift drills up at Belleayre, every thing was right in my world.

Today is not different from three other days of the week in my neck of the woods, when Mr. No’efinmuffler (I think it’s of Greek origin) rolls out his 20 horsepower rider mower. Mr No’efinmuffler is retired, and has time to devote to his yard. In the summer, it’s two mowings a week. However it’s the fall and the annual genocide of his leaves is to begin. Hitler must have risen from his grave around Halloween.

If there were a Pol Pot or Joesph Stalin of the leaf world, Mr No’efinmufller would be it, with his thrice weekly pogroms.

You see I like Mr No’efinmuffler, but I don’t like his rider mower. It needs a new ‘efin muffler!!! I don’t know why he’s unable to hear it. It could be that he’s getting on in years and just can’t hear it (seriously.) If this is the case then Beltone has it’s next poster child. (Beltone, for you youngin’s makes hearing aids.)

It’s just not loud, its mind numbing, in the next room, nails on the blackboard loud, and it’s three times a week. It drowns out the screams of the trees. No wonder the neighborhood is devoid of squirrels. They’ve all been driven out by the “killing machine.”

He’s done now, which means I should shut it down as well. Perhaps his Mother never let him ride that Up and Down Horse that used to be in front of all the grocery stores.

I can only pray for an early snow.