DISQUS

JP · 1 year ago

Little did you know that being stuck for that period of time would result in yet another outstanding Annarchy piece offered up to your eager audience....Thanks so much for sharing. :)

My most recent incident of getting stuck: Walking on rock pilings on the Oregon Coast -- crashing waves kept getting closer and closer...

My silliest incident of getting stuck: Of course, as a child, my tongue was stuck to the old-fashioned metal ice cube tray!

My most disturbing image of getting stuck: It's still the young man in "Fried Green Tomatoes" as he tries to free his foot from the railroad tracks as a train barrels down on him.

pprlisa · 1 year ago

ANN!!! once again you are proving that we were seperated at birth. I related to almost every part of this post. You are actually making me rethink the way I repond to my son's anxieties.

Thanks, and ummm, heeeheeeeeeeeeeeeee on the stuck knee - that was awesome!!! I would have panicked and cut off my own leg to save myself.

It actually reminded me of the scene in 16 Candles when Jake Ryan's girlfriend gets her hair stuck in the door and her friends cut off her hair to save her. So funny.

--Lisa

mack collier · 1 year ago

Ok it will sound MacGyverish, but if you had a shirt, you could have taken it and wrapped it around the baluster on one side of your knee, and the one next to it. Then you twist the shirt and it would pull the two balusters toward each other, meaning one would go away from your knee. And that would have given you the room to get your knee out.

Or it wouldn't have worked and your kid would have walked in on you with your knee stuck, and topless.

Which might have made for a better post ;)

Twitter Meryl333 · 1 year ago

Many thoughts welled up in my mind while reading your post. This one predominates: The biggest jolt is not the accident, but realizing that--no matter how powerful & *in control* we imagine we are, unexpectedly bad--- as well as unexpectedly good-- things are always bound to happen. You are blessed with the grace of keeping things in perspective.

For everything problem under the sun there is a solution or there is none. If there is one, find it. If there is none, never mind it.



Because I talk like your friend when excited about a new idea, I loved the simile that it was " like trying to cuddle an armful of ping pong balls".

Katybeth · 1 year ago

I too love the description of "like trying to cuddle an armful of ping pong balls" it just says it....I know what you mean about uttering the words "whats the chance that will happen" kind of like "you can't miss it." You know if you do or it does....life is about to become much harder. Thank you. I could read your witting all day and wish for more!

Ann Handley · 1 year ago

Here's the funny thing: Almost every man I have told this story to immediately goes into solution mode, as in, "You know what you could have done? You could have used the rays of the sun to melt some pine tar and use it to lubricate your leg. Or did you try.....?" Just like @mack! (lol)

Anyway -- thanks, all. It became good fodder to write about, if nothing else! (And the bruise makes me look tough.)

mack collier · 1 year ago

"You know what you could have done? You could have used the rays of the sun to melt some pine tar and use it to lubricate your leg."

LMAO! Love it! Spike probably has a show where guys discuss impossible situations to get out of.

Chris Brogan... · 1 year ago

John Gray's book, Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, states that men do that all the time. I'm totally guilty of it. I give solutions ALL the time, unless I remember to be more like John Gray. (A sissy.)

Beautiful scary story.

I'd buy your book if you'd write it.

Ann Kingman · 1 year ago

I'd buy your book if you'd write it, too. Or maybe even send it to a few people I know after it's written :) Can't think of another blog post that made me laugh and cry and laugh again in a 30 second span of time.

I can fully relate to the anxiety about the improbable. Family legend has it that when I was three, I would refuse to go outside without wearing a hat, in case an airplane fell on my head. Truth be told, I don't think I've changed much.

Leigh Duncan-Durst · 1 year ago

Annie Dearest,

First, let me say that my husband thinks your ping-pong ball cuddling a darn good analogy for talking to me most of the time! :-D

Second, I still think of that conversation and laugh myself into tears. Partially because it's just a CLASSIC Lucille Ball moment because in our case, I am probably Lucy and you might be a more pragmatic Ethyl.

As we discussed, this truly is like something that I would do ... only in my case, it would have occured in a very public setting while I was on a call with some huge client or someone from the media. The police would have been involved, but it would have taken 45 minutes for them to arrive,...long enough to amass a crowd of onlookers, taking photos and laughing at my misfortune. And it would have made the paper, or something ridiculous.

I really had no idea you were actually wounded in the incident! Sorry I laughed so hard. :-( Glad the mighty Caroline came to your rescue. Thanks for a great listening ear, and a beautiful writing hand.

Hope you (and your ego) are healing up well! Thanks for always sharing your wonderful heart.

Leigh

Amber Naslund · 1 year ago

Ann,

Once again, your writing just sucks me in and keeps me there. Kind of like a knee caught between a couple of balusters. Kidding.

Funny enough, while I've had plenty of ridiculous accidents or incidents akin to yours (remind me to tell you the story about my flute, away from polite company. And no, it has nothing to do with band camp.), what really connected with me was the worrying about the unlikely. That's me, to a T.

I don't worry about things I probably should, but I will invent THE most outrageous scenario and work myself into a frenzy over it. What is it that does that? Is there a switch somewhere that I can turn off?

Thanks again for sharing your talents.

Amber

Larissa Gaston · 1 year ago

Not to be all male problem solving, but I probably would have gone for the lubricant and brute force, then you might have avoided the angry scrapes - although I'm sure they look lovely with the bruises, not to mention increase your tough factor.:) I hate to admit it but I sometimes irrationally worry (there I said it, but I won't worry that I said it). And the next time I find myself going there I'll remember your story and remind myself there's no need to panic - on the balcony or anywhere else.

Deb · 1 year ago

I can TOTALLY see myself doing exactly that including the wondering about someone covering me come rain if I can't get out. Glad the girls were able to free you and you didn't have to deal with a laughing EMT crew! Keep up the great posts!

Jan Richards · 1 year ago

I was intrigued by your title, then soon laughing at the trying-to-rein-in-ping-pong-balls-conversation. And, well, I recognized an aspect or two of myself as I read.

The police cruiser story and the story about your toddler son (I am so very sorry!) started me thinking about the what-are-the-odds-but-it-happened experiences in my life.

A phrase my mother used to say was, "We're always good for an adventure!" My mother's life irretrievably changed when my older sister was born with cerebral palsy, probably the result of her very traumatic birth. Mom tried to eliminate adventure from her life as much as she could after that, and tried to scrub adventure-seeking out of her kids (it didn't work).

But if adventure found my mother? Then the spirit of adventure would suddenly, solidly, and somewhat merrily kick in. What's more, the spirit of spontaneity - gusto, even - would spread to the people with whom she shared the unexpected experience. That was always fun, and memories of the spontaneous teams that formed around these adventures affected me in positive ways - more than she might have expected.

Thanks for your story of the ornery baluster grip, Ann, the rescue by your daughter and her friend, and the history behind your "what are the odds, but it could happen" worrying. It was illuminating and thought-provoking, in many ways, as your writing always is.

Ann Handley · 1 year ago

Thanks for the comments, all. I appreciate each and all of you stopping by... and leaving your two pesos.

What is coolest for me is when people read their lives in my stories. As much as it's about me, and my experiences... at the same time, it isn't.

If you know what I mean.

And by the way, everyone should know that I WAS armed with a cell phone. So I definitely could have called at any point for help. That, and the total time lapsed in this story was *maybe* 10 minutes. And that's a generous estimation!

Dana Ironside · 1 year ago

How is that these banisters allow an extremity to go through but not come back out? I mean it's the same width going in either direction!? I had a friend whose 2 year old put his head through her stair banisters (ok he was 2 and you are just a bit older) and they had to call the fire department to cut him out! Thank god it didn't have to go there for you or that fire department might have had a good laugh at your expense (and pain).

Glad you are ok! Now, we're going to have to talk later about that anxiety you are dealing with from time to time! :)

Shelley Greenberg · 1 year ago

Great read, Ann, thanks.

I'm with Brogan and Ann Kingman - you NEED to weave all these in to a book. You're too good a writer not to!

Joel Libava · 1 year ago

Ann,
As usual a great piece.
{Unlike the piece of flesh you left in the railings}
I, too, was sideswiped by a car, and was sent flying a few feet. Weird.
Most importantly though, I didn't know about your son.
I am so sorry.
Joel

Toby · 1 year ago

Ann -Love your annarchy stories. Each one is a little piece of the puzzle of life. I'm online for a copy of that book!

Karen Swim · 1 year ago

Ann, you are a wonderful storyteller and you can count on me buying that book the minute it is available! Thank you for opening your life and sharing the joys and pain that are so integrally woven into our life stories. I'm sorry for the loss of your son. Those big scary things that happen in life are the hardest from which to recover but they also help us to see the ridiculous in their proper light. I have faced the scary so I don't worry about those things but like you I can spin a yarn about ridiculous scenarios. It is one reason I cannot watch medical mystery shows!

Amy Flanagan · 1 year ago

Wow, Ann.
In a few short paragraphs you have captured why I simultaneously laugh at and hate myself for swerving off I-93 in a panic one exit before heading into the tunnel. Does panic over the ridiculous things exist to keep our minds off a terror deep inside of what could actually happen?
I am very sorry for your son.
And very happy to have gotten to know you.
Amy

Bdot · 1 year ago

Funny!

Note to Caroline and Emily:
next time, grab the FLip, Evan's duct tape and the Sharpies.......

You just might need something on old mom sometime

BL Ochman · 1 year ago

WHEN can we buy your book? You are such an astoundingly good writer.

I am so sorry to learn about your son. And heartened that you have kept your sense of wonder and joy even after that.

Keep writing Ann. You know we'll be reading.

Morriss Partee · 1 year ago

I think I've gotten my knee stuck in places like that before. One thing to keep in mind if that ever happens again is that the knee changes width depending on how much it is flexed - more flex equals wider knee, which can be a big reason why it will go in and then not want to come back out. So trying to straighten the knee should also help it come back out.

But anyway, this is a great post, very well written, and I think so popular because everyone can relate! (Well, everyone who owns a knee or two anyway.)

And sorry to learn about your son. I can't imagine how tough that must be as a parent.

Cam Beck · 1 year ago

Sometimes I fancy that some people worry too much. My wife in particular, worries about what ailment we might all contract if I wash a dish in a sink that just had some raw chicken scraps in it.

Your story about your son, though, hit a little close to home. I had no idea, and I'm very sorry.

David Brazeal · 1 year ago

Ann, this is such a great story. You're an amazing writer! Thanks for taking the time to write and share it.

Christian Gulliksen · 1 year ago

Next time something like this happens, you can play it off as avant-garde performance art. Really intellectual stuff you don't expect anyone to "get." Claim it's a metaphor for...uh...US foreign policy...yeah, that's it. Super deep. Wow.

Sonia Simone · 1 year ago

Tears in my eyes about your son. I love this story, love the mix of absurdity and much-too-harsh reality and your daughter being a mensch and not laughing and the scary ease with which I can picture myself stuck the same way (and, of course, slowly starving to death, because I'm a horribilizer of the first degree).

I think you're really wonderful.

Romi · 1 year ago

*ouch*...I too was thinking that the introduction of some lubricants would be inevitable, but luckily you escaped without a mess, hope your pancake bruise is all healed now!

Jean Gogolin · 1 year ago

Found your blog through Michael Selzner's contest, and I love it. You are one fine writer with an amazing ability to make your readers imagine and empathize -- which for me is the secret to good writing.

Julie · 1 year ago

Ann, two words -- knee pads! I have a bannister similar to yours but am in no danger of a limb sliding through. I am convinced, though, that someone will eventually go sailing over it and break their ever lovin' neck someday (as the kids grow taller, I feel this likelihood increases). After enduring a soul-crushing loss, anything really does seem possible. All of the safety walls come tumbling down and you feel exposed to everything. It takes a long time to rebuild. So glad you made it.

Jack Kuperman · 1 year ago

While reading, I stayed there with you and thought too : "what are the chances of this happenning?"

Thanks for your blog.

Writer Mama · 1 year ago

I once fell through a cattle grate (those giant sewer-grate looking things that you see at auto gates in the Southwest), had a jolt of adrenaline pass through my body and then almost passed out. Luckily my leg wasn't broken! Seems unbelievably mean to do to animals. Anyway, after I talked myself down, er, up, much as you did here, I was able to pull myself out and limp back to the ranch where I was living.

Legs should come with a warranty.

Anyway, came by to congratulate you on making Michael Selzner's short list!

Congrats!

GiGi · 1 year ago

Ann,
Another great story. And again, I was there seeing it all through your writing. How did you create such a funny story while also telling us about your imagined and real losses? Thank you for opening up all of this and making me laugh...and pause. As was already mentioned, you are quite wonderful!

Angela · 1 year ago

What a horrifying situation. It reminds me of this one time I took a bus into the wrong town, and couldn't find a bus back out, and actually walked myself through the steps of creating a life there.

I'm happy you're free and didn't have to resort to spitting on your leg. (You know, for lubing purposes.)

Gary Cohen · 1 year ago

Ann,

You have an uncanny knack of not only writing so well but peeling the onion in a way that brings us closer.

Thanks for sharing.
Gary