Since this column has gotten so personal, I might as well tell you that I have a prize-winning black eye. I was leaving a party late at night, walking down a steep driveway to my car when I slipped and fell.
What is more fun than the fall is the reactions and the comments I’ve received. My plan was to quote the old Vaudeville response to anyone’s interest or sympathy, “Well, you should see the other fellow!”
I often did not get the chance, however, as people were quicker and more clever. These are some of the responses I have gotten:
“Bar fight?”
“I didn’t know you had taken up boxing.”
“I hope the person who did this looks worse.”
“I like your new eye make-up.”
“Fix the other eye and start a new style.”
Others said, “I didn’t know you went to places like that,” and “You must have made someone really mad.”
I don’t think anyone actually said this, but it was probably thought: “ Netta, I declare, you will do anything for attention!” I can think of less painful ways, like dancing in the street!
Just my appearance has probably sold a lot of ‘I’ve-Fallen-and-I-Can’t-Get-Up Alert Devices’, that everybody wants me to order. Maybe I’ll get a discount.
The worst comment was actually, “I am so sorry, and you know it will last a month.” Not a cheerful comment. The doctor warned me that it would change colors as it fades, and already the dark purple is mixing with yellow and green. So, why is it called a black eye? I’m trying to match my outfits with the colors.
Strangers hesitate to stare or ask what happened because I guess they think it might be a birthmark. One lady ducked her eyes and passed by me in a grocery store, but her 4-year-old son turned around and stared back at me all the way down the aisle. Since I can’t see myself when there are no mirrors around, I forget about it and go about my business. So, I’m surprised every time someone asks me if I’m alright.
I always say “yes,” but the real answer is “no.” I made a six-point landing when I fell, so I have at least six points of pain. I was lucky. Nothing broken and all will heal. Learned a lesson to accept an escort when offered, especially for questionable terrain. Didn’t someone say, “Pride goeth before a fall”?
Just a note of advice. When you take a tumble, don’t hurt your thumb, especially the one on your dominant hand. I used to admire fingers as the important digits. Now they’ve lost my favor. The thumb is so well positioned that it opens your phone, your microwave, starts your car, and is the key element in picking up anything. I now appreciate the old comment about a “sore thumb.” They knew what they were talking about!
I hope it is your sympathy I am feeling, and that you are not snickering or rolling your eyes at my dilemma and new look.
Jeanette Smith, 95, a Blythewood resident, has been active in the community’s civic affairs for over 50 years.