Taking a Digger on Van Buren

As kids, we often judged the severity of a winter by how many times the ice or snow caused us to fall on the sidewalk, street or alleys.  Our grammar school was only a couple blocks away and we made the trek through two unpaved alleys that were nothing but tire ruts punctuated by dozens of potholes.  The potholes would fill with snow which would get tamped down by cars, then thaw a little, then freeze.  It was inevitable that you would fall at some point, often falling on loose stones and sending books and pencil cases across the ground.  

If you happened to tell my Aunt Alice that you fell - at any time of year and for any reason - she would immediately start to laugh.  It didn't matter if you hurt yourself or not, she found any fall hysterical. If a sibling saw you fall, Alice would be the first to know. My beloved aunt has been gone for a number of years, now, but she is never far from our thoughts.

Today was brutal.  Single digit temps with sub-zero windchill. Any leftover snowpiles or slush puddles along the sidewalks were completely frozen over, and therefore treacherous. I managed pretty well going to the office, but heading to the train in the evening was my downfall, literally.

As I stepped off the curb on Van Buren near the LaSalle Street Station, my feet went right out from under me and I fell forward in the middle of the street.  I landed hard on one knee but my many layers provided enough padding and spared me from torn slacks.  Of course, I immediately stood up, looking around to see if anyone saw me.  I was in between packs of people and those ahead of me kept on moving, oblivious to my spill. But as I started to get to my feet, I heard, "oh, wow..." from behind me.  Turning quickly to the voice, a man asked if I was ok.  I was more embarrassed than anything else and motioned I was fine.  

I didn't lose much time getting to the train, took my seat and settled in. But after a couple stops, a dull ache started in my knee. I imagine that will be a nice shade of blue and purple by tomorrow.

In the last couple years, YouTube-style videos of (usually) women falling have been emailed back and forth among the women in our family.  Women dancing on tables at weddings who fall off, women who bend too far over when tossing a coin in a fountain and fall in, women who try out the kids' swingset or trampoline and fly off - these visuals are perfect for causing my sisters and cousins, (and me, too) to laugh out loud at the computer screen, and thinking, "that looks like a Judy fall, or a Carol fall..."

As I scrambled to regain my footing on Van Buren today, I could have sworn I heard someone laughing.  I'm sure my Aunt Alice is enjoying this winter.