Freddogg Off The Chain

I read this morning where a 51 year old sportswriter covering a high school football game died from injuries sustained when he fell backwards down 12 steps after hitting his head on a girder on the way into the press box. He was still clutching his lineup card which was renamed the 12 step program.
Many years ago while emceeing the “punkin chuckin” event I walked up a metal ramp into an open trailer to get a newly charged walkie-talkie. The top of my head hit the lip of the trailer and I dropped onto the floor like a care package on an Iraqi Kurd. “That bitch hurt like a mug” for days and I finally called the doctor who said I was passed the point of sudden death by cranial aneurysm.
Another time on a frozen February morning I double hopped from the boardwalk onto a snow covered sand dune and my feet when out from under me and I slammed the back of my head while spilling hot coffee all over my face. I thought,” what an ignominious ending to a non remarkable life but I deserve it just a variation of god freezing your face for making fun of people otherwise known as Bell’s Palsy.
A fall is a guffaw sort of slapstick and hilarious and actually as I tool around the world of walkers, canes and electric shopping carts, the hunched over, the limps and gimps and barely ambulatory I am disappointed that more two legged people don’t fall. I don’t want to see them get hurt I just want to watch others react, I want to know if it is alright to laugh?
I remember Charlie Queasy from Bristol Pa, a tough guy, who drove to the basket in a pick up basketball game when his feet got tangled up and Charlie slammed to the macadam. He popped right up assuming a fighters stance and shouted,”Nobody laugh!” I knew not to laugh but stifling is difficult when you know failure results in getting your face punched.