I'm clumsy.
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...
3 comments:
oh that's just artist syndrome. I remember my mother's distress when she was trying to teach me tennis. When I'd try to serve the ball it would fly open and come down on my head. Can you dance? (no is usually also part of the syndrome)
sorry, missed the dance comment, but also meant to tell you the illustration is great-- the border is quite magical too.
Hi Sally,
That's funny about your tennis serve. Sounds like something I would do!
Glad you liked the picture and the boarder. It's Painter's Image Hose. Do you ever play with that brush? It's fun.
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