Hello there, and welcome back, thanks for stopping by, good to see you again. Ooccasionally things will happen in my life and I say, "Wow! That was embarrassing!" For instance today, we had several customers in the store and I heard the door chime as they were leaving so I waited a few moments looked across the room and proceeded to let out this Sasquatch style growl/yawn/stretch. It was incredible, every bone in my body popped and I felt like a new man. I then heard the voice of an elderly lady say, "Well, guess you didn't sleep well last night."
This brought on the thinking of when was my most embarrassing moment? I often think of this when I say or do something moronic and I always go back to the 3rd grade spelling bee when Mrs. Campbell asked me to spell the word "three." After I asked for the definition, the origin, and if there were any other alterante pronunciations, I quickly spelled the word three as follows; "T-R-E-E Three!" I didn't win the spelling bee that year nor did I make it past round one. Embarrassing to say the least, I always thought this was my most embarrassing moment. However, yesterday I was reminded of an incident that happened back in high school.
The year was 1998, and my parents had just purchased me a new trombone, a very expensive new trombone for a 14 year old boy. We had just finished our homecoming parade and I was walking back to the car along side the band director and DIRECTLY in front of all the majorettes. When suddenly something tripped me and I hit the pavement hard, chest first. Luckily my new trombone broke my fall. As I lay there paralyzed with fear and completely humiliated, I thought about faking an aneurysm but then I had the thought of a middle aged red headed white man with a mustache giving me mouth to mouth. I came to my senses and realized that my spit valve on the end of my trombone slide had actually caught my shoe lace and with one swift swipe of the arm, I successfully pulled my right leg out from under me.
Only minor damage to the Benge 165F tenor trombone with a rose brass bell, but heavy emotional scars were on the inside of a 14 year old boy... and a little blood on the elbow. Luckily I was still wearing my band helmet and I think the plume really softened the landing in the facial region. Never the less this was absolutely my most embarrassing moment of all time.
Peace,
Andrew
