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I wasn't sure I was ready to dust off my Pogo Stick and jump rope. After all, I had just had Rotator Cuff surgery in December.
But I listed that skill on my audition sheet for the Hunchback of Notre Dame. If I get cast it will undoubtedly be because of my Pogo Stick prowess.
Certainly not because of my vocals.
On top of that I had to open my big fat mouth to Keela. Now, apparently, I'm performing at a United Way talent show at work.
I wasn't even sure I could still do it. My friend George told me that if I 'used to could' jump rope on a Pogo Stick', I probably could still do it.
That's easy for him to say.
I told Dave about my conundrum and he flat out told me that I was getting too old for such nonsense.
"What?" I was appalled and insulted. "I used to be really good at it."
George's voice echoed in my head. I used to could jump rope on a Pogo Stick.
What if my jump rope Pogo Sticking days were over?
There was only one way to tell. I grabbed my Pogo Stick from the closet and headed through the kitchen.
"What if you get hurt?" Dave asked.
"What could possibly happen?" I responded. I was really starting to get annoyed with him. I opened the back door, Pogo Stick in hand, ready to take the leap.
Seriously. How could I get hurt jump roping on a Pogo Stick? I just had to make sure I maintained sufficient height so the jump rope didn't catch on the bottom of the Pogo Stick.
Because, of course, if that happened, the jump rope would pull the Pogo Stick backward, which would launch me forward. And cause me to land on my face. On the driveway. Re-injuring my shoulder. Or breaking my wrist. Or my neck. And I'd have to call to Dave for help.
"Do you have your button?" Dave hollered to me.
I reopened the door. "What????"
"Your I've fallen and I can't get up button....do you have it?"
"You are hysterical. Not." I slammed the door.
I looked at my Pogo Stick. It had never let me down. Not when I was performing at that Gong show in the '80s. Not when I did my shtick at Kimmy's Kindergarten class in 1993. And certainly not in front of sold-out audiences at 15 damn performances of Gypsy seven years ago.
I picked up my jump rope and rested it on my shoulders. I climbed aboard my trusty Pogo Stick and began to hop. Higher and higher. I used my knees to hold the Pogo Stick upright, grabbed the jump rope and began to swing it.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
That's enough.
I dismounted and parked my Pogo Stick, resting the jump rope over the handle.
I limped into the house screaming, "DAVE!!!! HELP! I NEED ICE! AND BAND AIDS. LOTS OF THEM."
Dave raised his eyebrow.
"And wine."
I had something to celebrate.
To the untrained eye, I was just one of a myriad of shoppers meandering the aisles of WalMart. But I was on a mission. A mission of beauty.
I wanted to make my own Facial Fitness Pao Smile Trainer.
The Facial Fitness Pao Smile Trainer on the Japan Trend shop was extraordinary, promising a better, younger smile. But sadly, it was a bit way out of my blog budget, costing $271 plus shipping and handling.
OK. It wasn't just about the money. Truth be told, I didn't want to look like one of these people when I was training my smile.
What if someone were to come to my door when I was in the midst of a smile training session? I have a reputation to protect!
So I wandered the aisles looking for something I could use to make my own, more attractive, Facial Fitness Smile Trainer.
I was temporarily delayed at the Poop Play-Doh exhibit. I seriously considered constructing my Facial Fitness Smile Trainer out of the Poo-Dough. I examined the kit carefully. Hmmmm. It could work! If I strung multiple turds together with straws. Or dental floss.
But then I thought about putting it in my mouth.
And decided to keep looking.
Sporting goods? Nothing. Automotive? Zilch. Infant socks? Nada.
I finally hit pay dirt in the pet toy department. Not only is my dog toy cute and shakeable, it squeaks!
And it gives me quite a work out!
Now, the ordinary marketing genius would be satisfied with these results. But I’m no ordinary Marketing genius.
I found a way to make my Nerdling Facial Fitness Smile Trainer even more strenuous.
Throughout my product testing, Kevin looked on with envy, coveting my Nerdling Facial Fitness Smile Trainer. I should have known he'd find a way to get his grubby little paws on it.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he was the one who took it.
The evidence is overwhelming.
Why did the Scarecrow win the Nobel prize?
He was outstanding in his field.
And, for the record, that field was NOT gymnastics.
And, THIS Scarecrow cannot do a somersault onto the stage. Which is what the director wants her to do.
At the risk of sounding arrogant, I used to be quite gifted at somersaults. Forwards. Backwards. Sidewards. Any direction! In fact, I was a stinkin' somersault prodigy!
But that was decades ago.
And the stage is about as soft as a slab of concrete. If I do a somersault on that stage I really will have brain damage.
I’m sure I could do it if I trained hard enough. And if the stage was covered with a feather bed. And a stand-by ambulance was parked outside the theater.
Tiffany, of course, thinks this somersault will be a slam-dunk for me. She reminds me that I jump roped on a pogo stick in Gypsy a few years back.
But I wasn’t wearing a Scarecrow hat!
The thing is, I have to find a nimble, gymnasticky way to get from the corn field to the stage, which doesn’t involve crippling my neck in front of a live audience.
I really don't want to upstage Dorothy, but I have no choice.
I’ll have to do my back handspring.
Last week I was asked to say "a few words" about my boss at a Leadership Meeting where she was being recognized for her 20 years of service. I decided to tell it like it is...
What can you say about a boss who gives you a unicycle for Christmas?
It really wasn’t until I attempted to mount that unicycle that I started to wonder if she was trying to get rid of me.
But then I came to my senses and realized that she probably didn’t want an employee to go out on Short-Term Disability, and that she just had very high expectations of me.
She figured that anyone who could jump rope and pogo stick at the same time certainly could learn how to ride a unicycle.
So I started watching you-tube videos: "How to mount a unicycle", "How to ride a unicycle", "How to juggle while riding a unicycle".
But there was one video missing. “How not to go on Short-Term Disability while learning to ride a unicycle.”
That unicycle is a metaphor for Cathy’s leadership. First she has high expectations for her team. But more importantly, she is the kind of leader who inspires you to succeed .
And I really wanted to succeed on that unicycle to make Cathy proud.
But, in the end, I place more value on my healthy bones than on making Cathy proud. And my unicycle remains parked in my hallway where I can safely ride it, with my hands touching both sides of the wall as I proudly pedal onward.
I thoroughly enjoy working with Cathy and am thrilled that she has been with this company for 20 years.
But I will not be here for 20 more years if I keep trying to ride that damn unicycle.
It's hard to believe that the winter Olympics have come and gone. But cheer up! We're just 2 short years away from the 2012 summer games. Actually, there are only 870 days to go until the opening ceremony. And that's plenty of time to convince the International Olympic Committee (IOC) to add a new competition to the line-up.
Competitive pogo sticking.
But before a sport gets added to the Olympic games, it must be "recognized" as a sport. The IOC has recognized 34 sports that are currently part of the summer games. They include bridge, chess and orienteering. I submit to you that if bridge, chess and orienteering are sports, so is pogo sticking. (And don't get me going about ribbon dancing!)
You may be wondering why an Olympic Committee would consider a card game, a board game and a map quest as sports. According to Wikpedia, a sport is an organized, competitive, and skillful physical activity requiring commitment and fair play.
Let's start with bridge. Organized? I guess. Competitive? Oh yes- those seniors take their bridge very seriously. Skillful? I can't play so it must be. But physical? How many calories do you burn refilling your drink and going to the bathroom every 30 minutes?
Then there's chess. Again, it's organized, definitely competitive and requires skill. But chess players burn one calorie every 4 hours.
As for orienteering, if you bring along your GPS it's no more physical than taking a walk.
But pogo sticking? Now that's a sport! And the opportunities are endless: endurance hopping, relay hopping, downhill hopping, ribbon hopping. In fact, one could legitimize those non-sport sports like bridge, chess and orienteering by playing them while on a pogo stick.
The games are just 870 days away.
If I'm going to get this done I'd better get hopping.
