For me, summer vacation has come to mean traveling from one house in which I don't write to another house in which I also don't write. The vacation houses are always more scenic than my own but they also have more ants and less water pressure and so my state of mind remains about the same.
This year would have been no different if only on the morning of my departure I hadn't tried to carry too many things, stumbled and, with great force, slammed my leg into the stairs. People always say accidents happen in slow motion but for me the accident was instantaneous and it was the whole week after the accident that happened in slow motion.
|Call in the cereal spatter analyst!|
Nothing could be done except limp around and try not to think about my injury. Or sit very still and do nothing but think about my injury. A friend once tried convincing me to run a marathon, saying that at some point during the 26 miles, it becomes all mental. Which is exactly why I won't run a marathon: if it were all physical, I could do it, but the moment it turned mental, I'd curl up on the side of the road and wait to die.
Now I know what you're thinking: "Dan's no barrel of monkeys when he's healthy, so spending a week of confinement with him and his owies must be agony." (Susan says hi.)
But you're wrong, KP. I found hot showers helped mitigate the discomfort and it was there I discovered a colossal bottle of rich, copper-colored shower gel called Neutrogena Rainbath.
Have you heard of this stuff? It's apparently been around for decades and is sold everywhere in America except the places I shop. Neutrogena says it's "a unique fragrance of spices, fruits and herbs," which both undersells it and oversells it. Because Rainbath basically smells like old-school Brut.
I guess in 2014 there's no advantage in saying something smells like Brut and that's a shame because Brut smells great. Or smelled great. The new formula isn't the same but then nothing is the same, our minds and bodies are breaking down, we're all enduring a protracted decline and we're haunted by our memories of better times. Or maybe that's just my bum leg talking.
Anyway, the smell of Rainbath stays on the skin remarkably long and one morning when I emerged from the shower Susan said, "You smell like the '70s!" Which, as you know, is the best compliment you can give someone who loves fragrance. It's like telling an actor he reminds you of a young Brando.
This is all to say that everything is fine now and I smell great. How was your summer?