Jimmy Dean

Jimmy Dean
Thanks for the many kind words from perfect strangers stopping by this site. I am still knee deep in e-mail responses to people, I do know. I have got to work on my pen pal skills. This reminds me of a funny note I received once but first a little background. Names have been changed to protect the guilty.

When I was in 9th grade, some jerk (we'll call him Jimmy Dean) tried to get me to fight him during lunch at school. Fisticuffs and everything. Now having just taken a summers worth of karate lessons, I could have turned him into a pretzel and handed him his spleen. However, my pacifist upbringing at work, I decided that fighting was not the answer. As I turned away from Jimmy, he punched me in the eye as I turned away. He hit me hard enough that I saw a flash of light and heard a crack.

As it turns out Jimmy had fractured my eye, BEHIND THE EYEBALL. This trapped a small piece of my eye muscle causing me to have double vision for a few weeks. I saw more optometrists, ophthalmologist, and any other form of eye doctor than imaginable. They all said that after the swelling went down that the muscle would loosen and I would be no worse for wear. However, fighter pilot was off my list as potential jobs. In the meanwhile, while the eye was healing I had to wear a patch. Not to mention some gargantuan protective glasses for PE.

Since the school had a strict no fighting policy, Jimmy was expelled and sent to a different school. I, however had to go to school with a PATCH on my eye of the Robert Louis Stevenson variety. Somehow during this whole ordeal I had become incredibly attractive to one of my classmates (one of the daytime soap stars wore a patch in 1988, maybe this had something to do with it). Glenda (her real name was Christine, oh crap) wrote me notes all the time during French class. I guess my lack of interest in her had shown in the fact that I was not writing back quite fast enough for her. Glenda was growing impatient with me (and later played a very mean spirited prank on me that I might describe tomorrow).

One of her final notes to me said, "Did Jimmy Dean break your hand as well as your eye?"

Sorry for all the build-up with such a meager payoff. I think Jimmy Dean did break my hand.


Popular posts from this blog

Department of Corrections

Planning ahead for Macworld SF 5th Annual blogger lunch and schmoozefest

Plinky in today's New York Times Magazine