The Frisbee Files

April 10, 2005

On this day four years ago I launched a frisbee over a long grassy field for my wife to catch. At the same moment, she was lost in conversation with her little brother, and when I yelled her name she looked up just in time to receive the frisbee directly between her eyes. You know, the same spot that brought down Goliath. She fell over on the spot while I had a near heart attack.

We went home. I made her an ice pack. She re-made it correctly. I was exceedingly apologetic and she was understandably miffed. She sat wincing for at least two hours as the ice pressed against the bridge of her nose. At some point I must have decided I was forgiven for being such a wickedly accurate frisbee player and I worked up the nerve to film her with the Photo Phazer. I don't recall how that was received.

* * * * *

Two year later karma would have me laid out on a stretcher in an emergency room corridor as nurses yelled orders and I was put into various braces and machines. I'd been hit at the top of the spine, where it connects with the brain stem, with a frisbee thrown full force from six feet away. One of my students had meant to throw the frisbee for the dog at my side and had miscalculated the incline of his throw. Thankfully, no major (discernible) brain damage resulted, and I just spent the next two weeks on major pain killers and muscle relaxants.

Life as bad contemporary fiction. That's your true story for today.

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