Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The fickle finger of fate

We spent a lovely summer "camped" at the centennial farm of a dear friend in the cool, verdant north woods of Michigan's lower peninsula.  All was well until the day before we were scheduled to leave for a gig downstate at an independent living community (our day job).

We wanted to shower, of course, so, as he left for town our host advised us to put another log in the outdoor furnace so there'd be plenty of hot water.  He had injured his hand quite severely feeding this beast the preceding winter, so Whitt was being very cautious as he shoved the 4-foot log through the furnace door; then he watched in slow-motion horror as the log end trapped his left index finger between the log end and the edge of the steel opening!

Whitt started for the house, calling Judy to help, and after ice water, hydrogen peroxide, and some liquid bandage, the situation looked like this:

Yes, he played the next day, and for a week or so thereafter, changing the gooey customized bandaids after the performance and reapplying the liquid bandage--truly a miracle product of the age!

Moral for seniors:  BE CAREFUL!!!  ('Specially if you play guitar for a living.)