A few weeks ago, someone thanked me for writing and sharing the stories of the dumb things that I’ve done in my life.  Luckily, that topic has a pretty much endless supply of material.

Have you heard the one about the Christmas tree and the plastic surgeon?

I don’t remember the year that it happened, but I wasn’t married, so I was still a tad irresponsible.  Jens, Paul, some other college buddies and I, went to the Iowa State vs. Colorado basketball game in Boulder.  It was a frigid Wednesday night in early January, but the arena was warm, and the beers were cold.  

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In usual fashion, the Clones let us down.  Undeterred, we ventured out into the crisp Colorado air after the game to walk to some of the local watering holes.  Since we didn’t have coats on, we were forced to short-cut through several parking lots to hasten the trip.  After jumping one of the privacy fences, I noticed that someone had thrown their Christmas tree by a dumpster.  

Well, there’s only one thing to do with an icy Christmas tree when you’re freezing your cranberries off on a mile-long walk with your old pals.  I picked up the dead evergreen and threw it at Jens like it was a giant dart.  We all laughed as it knocked him down, then quickly continued the trek.  A few seconds later I heard him shrieking “Joust, Joust,” from behind me.  As I turned, I saw the point of the tree brush past my face, and I hit the ground as the widening base passed by.

I stood up, laughing at the short-lived medieval game, and I noticed that the others were not, as my left eye went dark. Jens quickly hailed a cab as our other friends wished us good luck.  My misfortune was not going to spoil their night of revelry.

Shortly after arriving at the ER, an eye expert and a plastic surgeon were called in to repair my ball, lid and brow.  I was lucky for two reasons – they saved my eye, and we made it back to the bar – well before closing time.

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