Ordinary People

I am the same person as always, only today my back hurts. The pain is the result of the ordinary living of life, not from some Olympian feat involving gear and outfits. I think it happened in the last snow, which was a few days ago, when I shoveled the side deck to get to the hot tub, which I then also shoveled off so I could get in, and soothe my aching back which I got shoveling snow. This morning I had to do the same thing. Which came first--the ache or the shovel, I wonder. I also wonder if it hurts less, more or the same as if I had hurt it from rock-climbing in the Canadian Rockies.

Anyway, this run-of-the-mill backache goes hand in hand with my worsening eyesight, which was never any good to begin with. I am the only myopic family member, on both sides of my immediate and extended family. Look at any family photo of three people or thirty, and I'm the only one in glasses. It's a weird fact, doing nothing as much as solidifying my conviction that I was adopted. My point is, otherwise ordinary days with run-of-the-mill backaches make ordinary days without them seem glorious. I wish I could remember this the next time I feel fine but get depressed anyway.

Perhaps my snow-shoveling days are over, going the way of running, step aerobics and dating.  That would be sad, since raking leaves and shoveling snow are two outdoor exercises that have the added bonus of actually doing somebody some good, unlike football where grown men just fall into a big pile on top of whoever is holding the funny-shaped ball. At game's end, nothing at all has happened to the spectators, ordinary peoplewho have paid hundreds of thousands just to watch the piles develop. Every so often there is serious injury, like when a stray ball hits an excited fan at a baseball game, and this excitement more than compensates for ticket price.