Here’s a toast to clumsy people

“Did you get your presentation done?” the chair of the committee asked me today at our lunch-hour meeting.

“I most certainly did!” I replied proudly. “If you’ll allow, I’ve made copies for everyone!”

And, as I reached for the file folder, promptly spilled a full glass of water all over my papers.

“Mel won’t be making his presentation today due to unforeseen circumstances,” announced the delighted chairman.

Some people live with good looks, some with steel-trap intelligence, some with unfailing good luck. I live with clumsiness. There are many explanations for clumsiness, none of which apply to me.

Clumsiness can be a sign of some serious medical condition. I don’t show any indications of diseases that cause clumsiness, so I conclude it must be a disease all on its own. Besides knocking over glasses of water, I routinely spill lunch on my tie, drop open cans of paint, and am a menace when swinging a hammer or wielding a power drill. A couple of years ago I drilled a hole almost clear through a finger — fortunately, my own. I called the nurse information line and asked if there was anything I should do. Don’t worry about it, she said.

Last summer I was unloading a particularly heavy piece of equipment from my truck, slipped, and it ran me over. Good thing I was alone, because some serious language escaped my lips. My leg was black and blue where the machinery hit me going past, and I had a lump the size of a fist that lasted for several months. I asked the doctor for advice and he said don’t worry about it, but suggested I let somebody else do the unloading next time.

I trip over the slightest obstruction, drop car keys in the snow (which I did just the other day), dump glasses of wine on fresh table cloths, and fumble rings into sink drains.

This explains, in part, why I never made the basketball team, was never a star quarterback, and have never learned to juggle chain saws.

It’s a wonder, really, that I’m still around. Clumsy people should have their own therapy group, but we’d probably lose the instructions on how to get there.