Saturday, May 24, 2008
Ah, Namowal, Maladroite!
Something on the ground? I'll trip over it. A sliding glass door? I'll walk into it. A doorknob or piece of furniture? I'll bump into it. How I've lived almost forty years without breaking any bones is a miracle.
For example, I tried skiing when I was nine (can you see what's coming?) I couldn't master the chairlift By the time I got out of the chair, it had already lifted from the drop off point. I crashed into the snow was almost struck by the next one.
Any sport was trouble. I couldn't throw (or kick) a ball straight. Even Frisbees flew the wrong way.
What was going on?
Some blamed the problem on "not concentrating" or "not trying hard enough". The former made sense when I crashed into things. But in sports? Be it the baseball diamond, the bowling alley or a tennis court, there was a big incentive to try hard. Nobody wants to be the slob who thwacks tennis balls sideways and bowls gutterballs.
My klutziness came in handy once: I took a tap dancing class in college. I was awful. I clunked around like a Clydesdale, botched steps, and fell behind. The teacher laughed at me. Another girl in the class had trouble too. We became friends. I learned she worked for the school paper and learned the name of the guy I could submit cartoons to...