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I fell the other day. Just slipped. Banged up my knee. It bothered me. Not the pain of the fall. I learned long ago from a deep-thinking philosophy treatise called “Road House” that “pain don’t hurt.”

What bothered me was the act of falling in the first place. I’m not supposed to fall. Of all the things I do, falling isn’t one of them. Think back on childhood and how often you used to fall. I probably fell all the damn time, just randomly fell to the ground. Sometimes, I probably tripped over my own stupid feet and fell. I imagine there were times I cried. I’m guessing those times I cried were when my parents were nearby. I mean, why waste tears on an empty room.

So, falling is what I did. It’s probably what we all did.

It is not, however what I do now.

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