Family Motto and the In-A-Pinch Awards

I'm rather proud of my family's Irish heritage. Most of you have likely seen the family shield tattoo I have on my left shoulder, and the motto it bears: Nunquam Non Paratus. It means "Never unprepared." I don't normally toot my own horn, but twice this weekend, I proved true to the motto, being ready with just the right things in a pinch.

Saturday: At the SCDC v. SIRG double header, Democracy Inaction (one of the refs) sheared off his kingpin in the middle of the first bout. For my non-derby people, that means he broke his skates in a manner not-easily repairable. As it turned out, I had the pair of skates that I attempted to learn how to skate on last Fall in the back of my truck. Not fabulous skates by any reckoning, but not the bottom of the barrel either. And, they fit him. So, I provided a ref with an emergency pair of skates so he could finish out the night. Granted, he replaced my wheels with his for the rest of the night, but that's ok. Stock wheels are really cheap to begin with.

Sunday: Scrimmage this Sunday was fairly painful: we had three injuries on the track. Fortunately, none were super serious. One person just had the wind knocked out of her really well, one had an old knee injury act up, and another turned her ankle (it seemed). For the latter two instances, yours truly helped each girl off the track by more-or-less picking her up and letting her trail one skate on the ground. (There are benefits to being a big guy...) But, that's not where the In-A-Pinch award for this instance came from. The last girl needed some help getting out to her car. Guess who had a walking stick ready to help her keep weight off the bad foot? We got my shillelagh from the car, and she was able to get about.

Yeah, I know, they're minor instances of providence, but still, it was neat that I was the guy who had just what was needed in a pinch.

*Insert Grouchy Snarl Here*

It wouldn't be the change of the seasons without me getting a sinus infection. Add to that a nice case of plantar fasciitis, and my day is just made. And so it is now that I am become a grouchy bear. I've got my antibiotics and am waiting for them to take effect. That said, today reminded me why I prefer to be active at night: I really don't like dealing with the general public.

Example 1: After getting my meds, I left HyVee and got into my car. As I was backing out (with Jim Chappelow in the space opposite me, by pure coincidence), some kid in a suit literally runs behind my car, stops, and makes a mad dash back as I slam on the brakes. Someone must not have explained to him what those funny white lights on the back of a vehicle mean...

Example 2: Right after nearly crushing a stupid child, I head to drop off my suit at the cleaners for my interview on Friday. Coming to a three-way stop, I stop. (Weird how that works, huh?) Some stupid blonde girl pulls up, slows down, and proceeds to cruise on through right as I start to go through the intersection, nearly taking off my front end. Fortunately, my mad braking skills saved me once again. She, of course, didn't let it faze her that she had nearly caused a serious accident through her own neglect.

Dear Lord, save me from humanity. Damn you kids, get off my lawn!