Oxymoronic

I fell flat on my face yesterday in the bar where I went to meet spouse after work. Because part of the seating area was slightly elevated, with a small step surrounding it, and the two "floors" were the same color, I didn't realize until it was too late.

It was just like when you're falling asleep and you have one of those awake-dreams that you step off the sidewalk, and you snap back wide-awake.

Only this was for real. Bunged up my wrist pretty bad, but nothing more than my ego was severely damaged. On the bright side, I received scattered applause.

And this was before any consumption.

This is just another example of my oxymoronic character. I am a dignified clutz.

I like to plan spontanaeity and I'm anxious to both start and finish a project. My appetite is behemoth, while my frame stays wiry.

And like many people, I have a disorganized method of organization.

Anyway, after I took a small bow, I found my seat next to spouse and ordered a drink. (Actually, it was a double.) I thought about Ella then.

I saw Ella Fitzgerald at the Hollywood Bowl about a decade ago and about half way through the show, she fell flat on her face, not having noticed the small step demarkating (what word do I want here? Delineating?) an elevated area of the stage where she had been throughout. Right in the middle of "Summertime" she rose from her seat and slowly moved downstage and SMACK, fell flat on her face. The entire audience gasped and people rushed out from the wings. She was dazed but insisted on staying and continuing. She brushed herself off, and finished the show. I read later that she had suffered a fracture from it.

And so I forgot about the pain and humiliation and enjoyed a lovely evening with friends. This morning though, my body is reminding me that I am injured. Darnit.