#16 -- Forget the power of the wind

So, I was going to call this one:

Learn about aerodynamics...the hard way,

but decided that it just didn't accurately describe what this post was about. I mean, I've already learned about aerodynamics in school. I've taken classes on fluid flow, and compressible flow & shock waves, and turbulence. I actually understand the basics of aerodynamics. I've learned why wingtips on airplanes are bent upward, and how lift is created by the flow of air over the wing's shape (called a foil). I've learned about what turbulence really is (not the jittery motion of the plane) and even how the shape of the internal foils within a jet turbine engine change the pressure of the air inside the turbine and ultimately make the airplanes move. Not to mention the fact that I didn't really learn this lesson the hard way either. I almost did. Let me assure you. I'm getting ahead of myself though.

So, those who know me know that I suffer from frequent headaches. It's a problem that I've always had for as far back as I can remember. Headaches and me -- we're a pair. Anyhow, recently I went through a rash of "remedies", searching for the one that was going to free me of this monkey and let me live a normal life. After several tries, I resorted to one possibility that I swore I'd never try: a chiropractor.

Now, don't get me wrong. I know that chiropractors do a lot of good for a lot of people. They have ways of manipulating bones and such that solve loads of problems for those that are in pain. I just have a difficult time believing that they REALLY know EXACTLY what they are doing when they start popping people's bodies in all those funky ways.

Anyhow, I went to this chiropractor who did gave me his song and dance, cracked my bones a few times, and did a decent job of helping to alleviate some of the pain that I've associated with the pre-headache regime. Unfortunately, he did something to my middle-lower back along the way that really screwed things up.

Suffice it to say, I stopped going to see the guy, and the problem with my back persisted. I'd wake up with horrible backaches. Mostly muscular pain. It was limiting the amount of time that I could lay down on anything, and ultimately resulted in me throwing my kids foam mattress onto the floor and sleeping on it to avoid the regular pain of the morning.

This lasted for less than a week before my wife said we were going to buy a new mattress.

We did need one. Really we did. Had this first one for nearly nine years. It was time for something new. And hopefully (I was crossing my fingers at this point) a new mattress would help to solve my issues with morning back pain.

Furious shopping ensued.

We ended up getting the $600 mattress at the local store instead of the $1500 Seely for obvious financial reasons. I am still a poor college student. I have told myself that money from my first advance for my first book will go toward two thing: buying a REAL mattress, which I will love, and a trip to Hawaii for my wife and I. But I digress.

So, we found the mattress that we wanted after some deliberation. Then, one dark and not-yet-stormy night, I set out for the mattress store with my American Express in hand. We'd been to the same store earlier that day and had been told that they had a California King-sized version of the mattress that we wanted and could get it that day. So, imagine my surprise when I'm sitting at their desk, after they've swiped my card, and they say that they don't have the mattress there at that store, but that it's in their warehouse, about 20 miles away.

Nice.

So, they guy says that they can deliver the mattress tomorrow, or I could go and pick it up at their warehouse.

Now, that's not exactly the choice that I heard when they said those words. Because, you see, I'd taken our old mattress and dropped it off at DI (believe I've mentioned that second-hand store in previous posts) on my way to the mattress store. So what I heard was:

Either you can go and pick up the new mattress at our warehouse, 20 miles away, or you and your wife can sleep on the floor tonight.

Well, I really didn't feel like I had much of a choice on that one.

So, it was off to the warehouse. I got there in one piece, with the sky threatening to begin raining on me, and after only a few shennanigans found myself loading the plastic-enveloped mattress onto the top of my minivan. I pulled out a shank of rope from the back, and started to.

And then this awful thought popped into my head:

You know (I said with a grin) this could become another blog post for me. I could call it:

Lose a mattress on the freeway.

I should have stopped right there. I know I should have. Especially after the incident with having to dig my car out of the snow bank. But I didn't. I kept right on tying the thing down, blithely skipping along the path of emminent destruction with a grin the size of Texas on my face. That would never happen, after all. I'm good with knots. I was a Boy Scout.

Ramp to the freeway.

Things looking good.

Spedometer at 35.

Things still wonderful.

Spedometer at 45.

Everything fine and dandy here.

Suddenly it sounds as if the world's biggest zipper races down the top of the van and I look out and up. The front of the mattress is about three feet off the top of the car. Well, okay, so I didn't pull out my measuring tape and make sure it was exactly three feet, but it sure did look like it from that vantage point. I'm all freaking out, cursing myself for even mentioning the blog only minutes before. On go the hazard lights and I get down to about 40 MPH as other cars are whizzing past me with driver's heads cocked awry, each trying to see what idiot has attempted the Car-Top Mattress on the Freeway routine this time.

Luckily I got to the next exit in one piece with the mattress still tied to the top of my car, and proceeded to take surface streets back to my house, never once exceeding the critical speed of 40 MPH.

That was a close one, let me tell you. And $600 never felt like so much as it did when I saw that mattress up in the air threatening to take leave of me with nary a care for what I wanted it to do.

But I learned from this experience, let me tell you. I did. I learned that next time I'm doing something, no matter what it is, that if I have any particular thoughts along the lines of:

You know, this could make a great blog entry. I could call it...

that I should turn and run from said circumstances.

Case in point:

Less than two weeks following the aforementioned circus, I found myself at church playing basketball one Saturday and needing to take a moment to visit the commode. I entered said facilities with my keys in my hand (for some inexplicable reason) and made for the nearest stall. I needed to put my keys somewhere and thought for one brief second that the top of the toilet tank looked like a likely resting place for them. I laid them there carefully and had a thought come to mind.

You know, I said to myself, this could make for another interesting blog post. I could call it:

Have my key ring fall into a toilet full of...

Well, you get the point. Suffice it to say, I removed my keys from the top of the tank and placed them on the floor. After taking care of things, I retrieved my keys and returned to play some more ball.

You see, I do learn. Sometimes, it just takes a while to sink in.