5 Things You Don't Know About Me (and Maybe Didn't Want To)

Scott's not only a handsome man, but a persuasive man, as well. He tagged me with the "5 Things You Don't Know About Me" meme. And I'm playing along. So, here goes:

1. I've never gotten a traffic ticket in all the 31 years that I've had a driver's license. I only got pulled over one time and it was because I had a broken headlight. The officer saw that I had a replacement and I told him about the gravel trucks that broke at least a dozen of my headlights in a two-year stretch. The fact that I said out loud that I never got a ticket probably dooms me to a ticket tomorrow. The fact that I'm ticket-free has more to do with luck than compliance with all posted speed limits and traffic directions.
2. I fell from a second-story outdoor balcony into a cement cellar entrance, landed on my chin, and lived. When I was a five years old we lived in a house in Chicago that had "back stairs," which were outside stairs that connected the various levels of the house. Back then, there weren't many building codes regulating home safety, especially in the Irish ghetto. I was playing on the outdoor landing and thought I would climb up a support pole for a better look around. I lost my grip and crash landed on the landing below. 30 feet below. I don't know how I lived through that one. I smashed my jaw into a million little pieces and had my mouth wired closed for a long time. I still have a scar that traces my jawline. I don't have the little plastic toy I got at the hospital. But I have a healthy dose of acrophobia to keep me away from the edges.
3. I had my left eye popped out of my head. Yes, this is rapidly descending into "Frank shows us his scars." Oh well, I have a few more, but I need a longer meme to tell you about them. My eye ended up dangling by its optical nerve because when I was in high school this kid named Danny raised his hockey stick at the same time that I was going for the puck and it plucked my eye out as clean as Chuck Norris reaching in someone's chest, yanking out their heart, and showing it to them before they died. So, there I was, one eye hanging out like one of those bad "eyes on springs" things you can buy at 5 Below, and my dad zooms up in his squad car. (They called him and said I might need to see a doctor. "See a doctor!" Heh.) My Dad runs up to me, takes one look...and pukes. I knew at that moment that I might be in trouble. He flung me in the squad car and zoomed 100 mph while my eye flopped around on my cheek. At the hospital they popped my eye back in. Just like that. They did a little surgery, and I could see again after about two months. The following year they made helmets and face masks mandatory in high school hockey.
4. I almost pushed 300 people down the stairs of Notre Dame de Paris. (Yes, that Notre Dame.) I'm beginning to realize that I'm a bit of a freak, but I really do have claustrophobia when I can't move. And one time on the stairs winding up to the towers of the Cathedral, there were way too many people, me being among them. People were going up and down the same staircase. Eventually, the staircase narrowed to only about one person wide. And people started pushing up while others were pushing down. Total standstill with me smashed against an outer wall with only a tiny window giving me air. No movement and bodies crushing. Then I felt it well up. I tried to remain calm. But I got some claustrophobia-induced Tourette's or something and roared, "If somebody doesn't f***ing move right this very f***ing second I'm going to push every f***ing Frenchie right into Quasimodo's dungeon." Or something like that. Everyone moved out of my way. Look out for the crazy guy. It wasn't one of my proudest moments.
   
5. I have the world's best flying dreams. In fact, just a few weeks ago I had the best-of-the-best flying dream. As in flying like in Second Life. I've always been able to fly in my dreams by just moving my hands a tiny bit - tilt my hands up and I go forward, tilt them back and I go back. I can't fly very high, usually about at the height of what we used to call "the telephone poles" when I was a kid. My SL flying dream had me going faster and higher than I'd ever gone before. And I wasn't even wearing PF Flyers or Red Ball Jets. I guess it's a sign of age that I look forward to flying dreams more than, well, you know.

Okay, that's some about me. There's a lot more bottled up inside. I could show you my hernia scar, but that's not nice to do in polite company. I could tell you about the time that my brother Michael decided to mow his foot instead of the grass. Or the time we were playing in a tree in Chicago and a kid I was with grabbed a high voltage line. Or the time when I was eight and Richard accidentally gutshot Frankie (another Frankie, not me) with a pistol we were screwing around with that was Frankie's brother's who was in the Night Sinners. That kind of crap. But enough about me, I'm tagging Ubermensch, Ms. LiquidTreats, Merci (we'd like to hear from her), Moni, and Pax. Five easy pieces, my friends.