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| Original art by Matt Maloy Sailing HideAway |
As I was setting up the cameras to film the relaunching of our
sailboat, the HideAway, I took a bit of a tumble. The lens cap on my camera fell off and was
rolling down the ways to the water. Not
about to let that happen, I made a diving lurch protecting my camera by holding
it high above my head while reaching down with my other arm to corral the
rolling cap.
Off balance, I did a fine imitation
of one of those rolly polly bugs you remember from childhood. Meanwhile,
my lower ribs slid under my hip bone.
It was every bit as painful as it sounds, but I saved my $5.00 lens cap and
provided a bit of entertainment for the ever present dock watchers.
It hurt so bad that I thought maybe I should see my
doctor. So I dialed the number. If you have hearing aids as I do you know how
difficult telephone conversations can become.
The nurse said my regular doctor couldn’t see me that day and asked “Which
doctor?….” and said some other stuff I
couldn’t make out, but I said “ok”.
“Come on down then” she replied.
The nurse escorted me down a long hallway deep in the clinic
to a room I’d not seen in prior visits. Glass
beads hung in the doorway and the room was poorly lit. Several large mounds of smoky candles were burning,
their melting wax creating sculptured water falls onto the floor. There were
smoking sticks emitting strong, although not unpleasant odors scattered about in
the room with walls of many colors.
I sat on a stool
in the middle of this room of wavering shadows
and swirling fragrances waiting for the doctor.
As my eyes adjusted to the light and smoke I noticed an enormous man
sitting on a higher chair that was adorned with things you may have dreamt
about and fortunately failed to remember until now. As I recall his name consumed most of the
letters of the English alphabet and could not be pronounced anyway.
He began to speak but I could not fathom a word he said. Granted, I may have had my hearing aids
crossed and was hearing stereophonic sound backwards. My mind by then was as smoky as the room.
So I pointed to where it hurt and he poked at it with his
finger.
“Ooooo…. Eeeeee!!!” I
winced
“Ooooo Eeeee?” he asked “ Ooooo… Ooooo… Aahhh!
He diagnosed.
Then he went into a long dissertation about going to Walla Walla
in, on, or with a “Bing Bang”.
It may have been the candles or in may have been the smoldering
sticks but I’d had enough. I got up, staggered through the smoke and glass
beads and went home. I took a couple of aspirins,
but I didn’t call him in the morning.
SMALL BOATS ROCK!
Use Your Boat Picture/Art
