I fell down...and did a magic trick!

I guess getting clumsy comes with getting old, and having Parkinson's disease doesn't help much.

Yesterday I was going into the dining room, sipping my lunchtime can of Pabst Blue Ribbon when I accidentally tripped over Taz and Squeak, our two constantly under foot, constantly shedding, growling, or barking to get in or out, fuzzy, funny, lovable (to us) dogs.

I did a not very graceful pirouette, stuck my other foot in a basket full of dog toys,and promptly threw the half full beer across the room where it bounced off a heavy brass lamp and disappeared behind an overstuffed chair. I landed in a pile of yipping dogs, squeaking bears, alligators, pandas and other unidentifiable stuffed animals .

Carol, who was on the phone talking to our son Brad, came running in to see what happened.

“Are you OK?” she asked as she helped me get up. I was more humiliated than hurt and the dogs looked kind of embarrassed too. Carol checked the three of us out, and after I hobbled around for a few minutes and the dogs returned to their normal exuberance she declared us “fit for duty.”

“Oh shit!”I said, “My beer.”

I peered behind the chair where I had seen it ricochet and there it was; sitting upright as though someone had put it there for safekeeping. I looked for spillage but there weren't any wet spots to be found – anywhere. I picked up the can and was amazed to find that it was still a half full!

I held my can of PBR high and said, “Ta-Daa! And now for my next trick...”

My Space ship

Over thirty years ago Carl Sagan hosted a TV show on PBS called Cosmos. One of the visual devices he used to transport his audience out into the billions and billions of galaxies, nebulae and star systems was what he called a “Star ship of the Imagination.” To me it was absolutely riveting television, even though his voice, and the soothing background music were mesmerizing. Watching the reruns years later I still find it spellbinding, piquing my imagination and conversely causing me to nod off into dreamland.

A few days ago I realized that I have my own “Star ship of the Imagination” and it disguises itself as an old, threadbare, beat up recliner. Carol picked it up at a local garage sale 20 years ago, with a broken foot rest and a dire need for some TLC.

“It looks pretty lumpy,” I said, thinking that maybe it really should have gone to the dump. After fixing the foot rest mechanism with a bit of wire, I sat down, pulled the handle up, and leaned back. With a series of clicks the chair enfolded and accepted me.

“Hmm, this is comfortable!” I said, as I realized that all of the lumps and grooves were in just the right places. It has been my favorite reading, napping, TV watching, and napping places ever since.

It's also been a favorite lap spot for 20 years of faithful dogs. Lady, a pound dog Cocker Spaniel, Chewy, our Lhasa Apso, and now Squeak and Taz come into the den when they hear the clicking of the foot rest and sit in front of it, waiting for me to give them permission to jump up onto my lap. Together we nod off into our separate dreams, happily snoring, growling, barking in falsetto and drooling as we travel on mysterious journeys in the “Star ship of Our Imagination.”