Spontaneous Friday

A long time ago I broke my right knee.

It happened on a warm July evening of 1991. Bush Sr. was in the White House, the Chicago Bulls won their first NBA title, my 1984 Tempo was in reasonably good shape and my crumbled right knee was lying awkward on the floor.

I had such simple plans that night. Brush my teeth, watch the local news and go to bed. Unfortunately I took a detour on the way to my toothbrush.

The detour had a name: My Chin-up bar.

It was one of those fun, boyish and spur of the moment ideas that came out of nowhere. An act that everyone with a chin-up has done once or twice.

 I grabbed my chin-up bar, pulled myself to the ceiling and launched my body into the hallway.

A pretend Olympic moment you might say. I would nail the perfect landing while being surrounded by applause and endless endorsements.

As I launched myself into the hallway my chin-up bar decided to break free. Unprepared for such comedy I landed in an odd shape ruining my chances for gold.

Chin up bar

Multiple surgeries and endless rehab followed for the next two years but the knee responded and returned pretty close to form.

On the dark side of the coin we knew its life span was limited. None of us can live forever especially a shredded and shattered knee.

But it hung in there for 26 plus years and now, cue sad music, we may have to say goodbye.

Last December I had surgery on my knee in hopes of adding a few more years.

Like a faithful pet, my knee wouldn’t go down with a fight. But like a faithful pet whose time will someday pass, my knee may have consumed its final supper.

My good doctor and his assistance have poked and prodded and injected to the very end. We have bled the river dry and with nothing more but a tiny heartbeat it may be time to say goodbye.

I almost lost you, dear knee, in 1991. But you surprised us and hung around for a quarter century plus change.

You saw the rise and fall of political dynasties. Michael Jordon and his NBA dominance and the death of my 1984 Tempo.

You traveled with me on the day I got lost in an IKEA store – the kitchen display mind you – and you were there minutes later when my daughter rescued me.

We spent a day New York City where we walked six miles. You were also there when we got lost and had to walk five more.

You were with me in Boston when we had a beer at the world famous Cheers bar and you were there in Alabama where we climbed to the nose bleed section and witnessed a Crimson Tide win.

If this is truly the end I bid you a fond farewell. I wish I could bronze you and place you on my mantle.

Unfortunately the family may have issues with that idea. But fear not, I will continue to pester them hoping they’ll cave.

On the other hand I would not be surprised if you responded and prospered to the latest treatment.

You are an old dog who refuses to die. You are a cat with nine lives. You are Rocky refusing to call it quits.

I hope you decide to stay. We have shared a lot of memories and it would be nice to add a few more. But if you do decide to part it’s been a wonderful ride.

With that I bid you adieu.

 

Happy Friday Everyone!!!!

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