Anymore, when I tell someone a story, he or she seems always to ask, "Is that going to be in a column?"
That does happen a lot. But not everything in my life shows up in the newspaper. No matter what someone said in the newsroom, I really don't do stupid things just so I can write about them.
I am just prone to do stupid things. I write about them because often I need something to write about.
A fine point, I know, but still a point.
Which leads me to this. Last weekend my wife and I were preparing to go to the farm in Missouri for Christmas. Even though we have scaled everything back over the years, this still involves packing food, presents and clothing.
There is a lot of scurrying about and a lot of pressure not to forget anything. I don't do pressure, at least not well.
I opened the back hatch to my car and noticed it didn't quite go all the way up, but I was preoccupied. I went on to open a back door and pack some things.
I came back around to get more stuff and walked headlong into the side of the hatch.
I am about 5 feet 9 inches on tiptoes. The hatch usually goes up to about 6 feet. I know because I have walked under it many times. This time I am guessing it was about 5 feet 6 inches high since it hit me in the middle of my forehead leaving two angry looking welts which began to ooze.
My first thought was "Ow." My second thought was, "Oh, great. Now I am going to have to spend an entire week explaining what happened."
I was walking around with two ugly scabs on my forehead to try to explain. One friend suggested I print out slips of paper with the explanation. Just hand one out when someone asked, he said.
Another friend at the paper suggested making up different stories about the incident so I wouldn't get tired of explaining the same thing every time. That also would work out good for the column.
So here goes. What did you do to your head?
* I was playing Santa Claus and I hit my head going down the chimney.
* I was ice skating and I messed up a double axel.
* I was playing hockey and I took a stick to the head.
* I was baking cookies and when I looked in the oven to check on them, I got a little too close.
* It involved a power sander and I don't want to talk about it.
* My lawyer says not to discuss it until we get to court.
In a few days the scabs will have healed and I can forget about all this. At least until it happens again.
Have a column idea? Call Wally Spiers at 618-239-2506 or 800-642-3878; or email: firstname.lastname@example.org.