It’s funny what you can learn from sitting on a couch.
For instance, I learned recently that Jon and Kate are getting a divorce — though I admit that I’m not exctly aware who they are or why I should care. I also learned that Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson never believe that they are out of a tournament, no matter how far behind they might fall. And I learned that sitting on a couch for more than four straight days is for the birds.
Minor foot surgery last week limited my mobility to the point where I was essentially trapped on my couch for what seemed an eternity. My spirits were lifted a bit by the fact that the U.S. Open would be on, but they were quickly dampened by persistent rain that limited the golf action and gave open microphone time to the announcers.
Interesting tidbit I picked up during one of these rain delays: Golf announcers should not have open microphone time. On the plus side, they make it very easy to fall asleep if you’re so inclined. On the negative side, sleep is the only way to make it through one of their conversations without picking up the closest thing with some weight to it and smashing it through your television screen. If I heard them say one more time that the rain makes the grass wet, I was going to launch my crutch...
But I digress.
Finding little to no relief from my boredom through golf coverage, I figured I’d just resort to the time-honored activity of channel-surfing. With about 75,000 channels at my disposal, I was certain to stumble into something that would capture my attention and steal a few hours away from Dullsville, USA.
Have you watched much daytime television? Apparently, Judge Wapner is not the only judge on television these days. I came across at least six shows in my channel-surfing voyage that featured judges of all races, genders and ages deciding the fate of people who were apparently too low-brow to make it on Jerry Springer.
Enough with the remote control.
It was at this time that I decided I’d take advantage of the time I had and kick back and read a book. I grabbed one by one of my favorite authors, Harlan Coben, and settled in for the mental escape that only a good book can provide. I was immediately intrigued by the possibilities after a few short pages and was certain that I had a smile across my face as I delved deeper into the story. Then the smile left.
I had read this book. About a month ago.
I flipped back on the television to see if the players were back on the course yet at the U.S. Open and silently prayed that I could at least watch a little bit of the action and kill some time.
“Well, Chris, that rain is not doing any favors to the course. The grass is really wet out there...”
Frustrated, I flipped to the movie channels and watched a few movies I’d already seen. Then I read a few more chapters from a book I’ve already read. Then I flipped back to ESPN to see if the golfers had ever managed to get back on the course. Some had. But apparently they struggled because — wait for it — the grass was really wet.
I surfed the Internet to monitor the happenings of the World Series of Poker and cried a little bit because I wasn’t there. I switched over to play a little online poker and cried a little bit because I was losing. I went back to my book and cried a little bit because I knew a character I enjoyed was about to die a quite-horrible death.
I don’t do well with total inactivity. Even at work, I often find myself standing and pacing throughout the day, and was frustrated because I couldn’t even pace in my hobbled condition. This was the point where I figured I’d just suck it up, get on my crutches and make my way out to the mailbox. A small chore, to be sure, but I needed to do something. Anything.
The walk was tough. I had to maneuver my way down a few steps off my front porch, and then to the end of my driveway. My underarms hurt from the crutches digging into them, and my balance was wobbly. Then it was gone. One crutch went to the left, the other went to the right and I hit the ground between them.
I slipped on wet grass. Apparently, the rain had made it that way.
Gathering my crutches and self-respect, I stood up and made my way back into the house and to the relative safety of my couch. I resigned myself to the harsh realities of my day and flipped the channel to the Golf Channel. They showed a few highlights of the day, talked about the weather and got into a conversation about the expected rain the next day when I drifted off into sweet slumber.
One day down, and three to go before I could return to work.