• CONECO Story 1: I've dropped a manhole cover on my finger. Well, actually, it was more of a steel plate. I was sampling monitoring wells at a gas station, and needed to know what was in the steel boxes set into the pavement. As I didn't have a crowbar with me, I used a screwdriver and small piece of steel to try to pry off the plate. I got the plate about half-way up, and proceeded to let it fall onto my left index finger. After it fell, I thought to myself, "that was pretty stupid," and "Shit, that hurt!!," until I looked down at my finger. The fingernail was almost entirely torn off. That's when the pain hit. I drove myself to the hospital, got an X-ray and a couple of stitches, and had my finger bandaged. I had a party to go to that night, and played the best pool of my life, since I was able to use the bandaged, numb finger as a bridge. It took a couple of months for the nail to grow back, but there was no permanent damage.

• CONECO Story 2: On the first day of a 10-day, high-profile soil excavation, at 8:15 am on a Monday morning, I bent down to collect the first soil sample from newly exposed soil just below the pavement. I proceeded to stand up, take three steps, and walk directly into the backhoe bucket. The impact of my head against the bucket knocked my hard hat off, and as it was described to me, my body kept going but my head just stopped. The next thing I remember was getting up from the ground. After applying pressure to stop the bleeding, I again drove myself to the hospital to get three stitches on my forehead. I was back on-site in about two hours. The bucket was not injured.

• Quintessential College Story: I was nearly a victim of defenestration. The Brown Band was returning from a long weekend at the University of Pennsylvania, and I was helping to turn the rear bus seat to its normal, upright, forward position (it's a long story). As Bob Deacon and I lifted the seat, the arm of the bus chair lifted the emergency exit bar, and the bus window opened. Of course, just at this time, the bus was taking a curve on Route 95, and I proceeded to fall half-way out the window. Bob and Dan Swingley pulled me back into the bus, and subsequently wrote a song about it. The Brown Band has been singing about me for 5 years now.

There are plenty more, but I'm sure you get the idea. Take a look at the scar on my leg in the photo of me sailing.

Meet other Klutzes, and maybe buy some juggling balls. (don't bother without a speedy connection)