Wednesday, July 27, 2005

My Big Stupid Feet... ( or how I broke a bone in my left foot on Sunday)


I'd hoped to talk about this later in the week after I saw the orthopedic doctor guy, but one of my dear readers dragged it out of me...

It was Sunday, a day of rest for most Americans. My beautiful and talented (or "b-alented") wife and I returned from our week away in Maine. We saw her mother, most of her brothers, and all of their kids. I ate a lot of Lobster Rolls and Blueberry Pie. I bought vintage paper back books that included a lot of movie and television novelizations ("Sergeants Three", "The Avengers", "I Spy", "Columbo") and vintage paperback books that movies are based on (1st editions of "The Man With The Golden Gun" and "Breakfast At Tiffany's"). And I was the cool uncle for the nieces and nephews.

I don't feel it necessary to give any stories to explain that last bit.

So, we get back, and I'm unloading suitcases from the truck, when my left foot turns under me the wrong way and I fall on it. I end up, after going to the emergency room at INOVA (or Fairfax) Hospital where when you are fast tracked you wait an extra two hours, being diagnosed as having broken a small bone above my little toe on my left foot. The doctor, who looked like a young James Lipton ("Isn't he the host of "Inside The Actors' Studio?" you query... "Ahhh, very good, Grasshopper" I shoot back), told me that the injury is a very common one, for dancers.

Which isn't that funny. I always dance when I carry heavy boxes, suitcases, or packages.

Because I studied at the "Bob Fosse Institute Of Movers".

Hopefully, I will be more mobile (aka "off crutches") in a week or so. Until then, I will be the Tiny Tim of my local Starbucks where I work.

Sigh.

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4 comments:

Mona Buonanotte said...

Oh, poor Mr. Jones! At least you didn't break your steamed milk arm, that would SERIOUSLY put a crimp in the Starbucks flair. (I'm being positive and supportive, can you tell?)

Is it wrong of me to have a weird crush on James Lipton? I think really it's more a fantasy that he'll interview me and ask me those questions at the end, and I'm preparing my 'Favorite Curse Word' explanation.

Hope the foot feels bettah soon!

Pisser said...

I am envious of your job unless you give me one good reason not to be.

I am also envious of your stylish "dancer's injury". By the way, your friend Mr. Fakemen has boinked himself right in the eye with a screen door (or so he says...) and it looks like a righteous shiner, so you're not alone in Klutzville.

Heal swiftly!

Captain Spaulding said...

bought vintage paper back books that included a lot of movie and television novelizations(..."Columbo")

Were these novels based on Columbo episodes or were they brand new exciting Columbo adventures?

I am presuming that you wouldn't call the Columbo novels from the mid-90's "vintage".

your fiend, mr. jones said...

MB- You are among many ladies who have this strange crush, I fear. It may have something to do with the bizarre purr he puts on his voice when he asks to see celebrities dance, or their tattoos, or if they enjoy horseback riding. Or it may be his wife (a very nice, smiling, blushing Asian woman, who he introduces in the audience almost every chance he gets and who will not allow him to get a tattoo, he claims) and what they imagine that relationship to be.

Thanks for the positivity and support.

P- I could give you several good reasons, but I'm trying to remain positive and supportive, myself. Tell the fabulous Mr. F that he can use my story, as it is funnier.

Capt.- As the words "vintage" and "novelization" imply, the Columbo book is a novelization of one of the classic seventies episodes. Specifically "A Deadly State Of Mind", the George Hamilton is an evil, murderous psychiatrist who's having an affair with a hypnotized Leslie Ann Warren.

I'm sure you'll agree most of the nineties "Columbo"'s are bs (as are all of the brand new paperback Columbo adventures), except for the one with Anthony Andrews as the evil psychic who murders the stage magician played by the mighty Anthony Zerbe!