Platypus Raw

Platypus Raw... kind of like "Baywatch Nights," only not.

"Huzzah, my tailbone isn't broken afterall!"

A cautionary tale, by Nick.

Two weeks ago, I jumped off a cliff. CharLie and I were wandering around FortWarden, when we came to a search light platform on a large cliff overlooking the ocean. We climbed about two thirds of the way down to the beach, then discovered we were out of viable downward climbing, and largely unable to clamber back the way we'd come due to an overabundance of mud. Fortunately, our curiosity seems to have an easy time overriding our self-preservation instincts; when we spied a large sand pit below us and to the left, we inched our way over and jumped.

What a rush! We were roughly fifty feet up and the cliff face was closer to vertical than any sane human would consider safe. A ten foot freefall, some skillfull run-hopping, and a lot of adrenaline found us suddenly at the edge of the water, screaming like gods or extremely boastful ninjas.

It was so great, we went back the next day, this time with Mical and her friend Sophie along for the ride (thank random they came away unharmed). Unfortunately for me, two very important variables had changed since the previous day's stunt:

• It was raining, causing the sand to be significantly more compressed.

• I was feeling cocky, causing me to forget about the importance of clinging to the cliff face and fearing for my life.

We lined up above the sand pit, and I jumped first (to prove it was safe). Another exhilerating freefall, bracing for my feet to impact, and crunch!

"Hmm... that wasn't my feet. Let's see... brain intact. Upper spine good. Ass? Yep, that's it. Obscenity!"

After a few nanoseconds, I went back to concentrating on my continuing downward travel, then spent several seconds at the bottom contemplating my error. Eventually I managed to stand up, and moved to make room for Mical, Sophie, and Charlie to have their turns. I had a gut-wrenching moment when Mical, halfway down, went headfirst into a roll, but she made it to the bottom with no worse than a slightly bruised rib.[1] Sophie chickened[2] out and made for the harder but shorter drop to some bushes, then scrambled down the sand once she'd bypassed the 10 foot drop. Charlie executed a flawless landing.

Once everyone was at the bottom, I casually inquired as to how one knows when one has broken one's fucking tailbone. I ran a few self-diagnostics, including sitting, standing again, walking, running, and climbing rocks and metal pipes on bunkers. It hurt like hell, but at least I was still mobile.

The pain got increasingly worse for about three days, to the point where standing or sitting was an agonizing chore. Eventually it started getting better, and now it only hurts when I stand up from a hard chair.[3]

Today I finally visited my friendly neighborhood practitioner of chiropractic medicine. She poked, prodded, adjusted and manipulated, then took some x-rays (I got to see my own spine... yeah!). While looking at the x-rays, she sort of muttered to herself...

"You'll be fine. Hmm... well... no, that's not... ah, but here... oh, no, you said that... and... you'll... well, hmm... yeah... you'll be fine."

At first glance this might seem a wee bit disconcerting, but I am extremely familiar with the process these sounds indicate. This is the exact ritual a computer geek/engineer goes through when he has been posed a question, and rather than give you a quick (but educated) answer, she is seriously considering the matter, running full mental simulations of all the possible scenerios. It was extremely reassuring.

The good news was that my coccyx[4] is not broken, just terribly bruised. After four to six unpleasant weeks I should be fine, and overall my spine is in doctor-certified excellent shape. Take that, teachers who yelled at me for slouching!

On the way home, the rearview mirror, the sun, and my glasses aligned in such a way as to superimpose an image of my lower jaw on the reflection of my face, providing the illusion of a mouth embeded in my forehead. I kept glancing in the mirror and making satisfied grunting noises, like my forehead had just received a massage or finished a really good meal. Heh. Forehead mouth.

So, the question of the day: IfAllYourFriendsJumpedOffACliff, would you jump too?

• Nick, I chuckled contentedly through most of this story (nothing like a detailed description of a friend's physical pain to make me laugh, don't y'know), and then I got to the bit about forehead mouth. If you ever do a mental inventory of your life's accomplishments, you can say, "Hey, I nearly asphyxiated Mitchell! And I didn't even have to put a plastic bag over his head! Cool!"

• Nick, your pain (so eloquently described) was a bright spot in my day. In other words you're damn funny and I laughed my ass off. Thank you!

After wandering around downtown Port Townsend the other day, I got a slice of pizza and headed to the beach to eat it. Sitting on the rocks by the edge of the pier, watching waves crashing at my feet and a ferry pulling into the landing down the way, I started thinking how much I like waterfronts (more on that later). That's when it hit me. "Nuts to mallrats," I thought, "I want to be a wharf rat."

Well, it sounded clever in my head.

Charlie has got me thinking[0] about how incredibly foolish it is to not write (especially, I might add, when you have a completely voluntary and easily amused audience). So here goes. I suppose I could get in on the whole LiveJournal craze, but frankly most of the thoughts I have that approach anything near "interesting" are completely unrelated to what would properly appear in a "journal."

Anyway, this is retro night, as I'm back in Corvallis and feeling very retro-platty. It's amazing how people and places can freeze-dry personalities. "Welcome to Corvallis. It looks like you have an unfinished document saved, would you like to resume work on this Nick?" I flopped on the bed earlier and stared at the ceiling, thinking about the same people and things and ceilings I was thinking about at exactly this time a year ago. Same crap, same bed, same ceiling, same Platty time, same Platty channel. Nick: Now More Than Ever^TM!

Walking back from grabbing a burrito (they're still excellent) earlier this evening, I watched two people on bicycles zip past. As they took the corner to the apartment, there was total familiarity in the motion. And I thought for a moment it could be me (and Rick or Justin), returning from another late night burrito run. Maybe somehow, just for a minute, I stumbled into a night in my life of a year ago. Perhaps on this night last year (I can't recall), I was riding home, and out of the corner of my eye I caught a strangely familiar figure watching me pass from under the trees. I should have shouted something, imparted some of my wisdom from the future, but what could I say? "Watch out, you're going to be real bored for a while!" *Blip!* I try to save myself a few months of corporate drudgery, and there goes the timeline. Yeah, probably better I kept quiet.

[0] Damn you, Lloyd!

[1] Yes, I'm well aware that we're all idiots and I'm a terrible and irresponsible brother.

[2] Latin for "to choose wisely"

[3] Information you no doubt find fascinating. Curse you, now you know my weakness!

[4] Stop snickering.