When I was fourteen (14) years old I was a freshman at Mater Dei High School. I was in the band (first trombone, second seat!) and on the bowling team, so obviously I was the coolest cat in school. Every Monday afternoon I would take my backpack and a sixteen pound bowling ball (my dad picked weight based on what a real man would use) for a one mile walk to Santa Ana lanes. One particular Spring Monday Jim Mitzel and I were halfway to the bowling alley when a 1974 brown Nova came screaming down Bristol avenue toward us (Jim played sousaphone and had a 1970's classic afro hairstyle and I was 115 pounds of nervousness.) The Nova was moving at least at 50 mph. I could see a red spherical object being thrown from the passenger's side window. It probably took less than two seconds from being thrown out of the window to come crashing into my testicles, but during that time I thought it would hit Jim.
I didn't consider the danger it would do me! The red water ballon grazed Jim's left thigh just before it impacted me below the belt buckle. I went to the ground in pain yelling to Jim, "Get the license plate number!" It was too late. He was already on the ground laughing so hard he couldn't see straight.
I realized later as I limped to the bowling alley in wet pants that I couldn't control or see all that life was going to throw at me Well maybe I realized that a few decades later. I hope that your life isn't so hard that you don't get back up, even with wet pants and pain to the groin.
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