WE ARE APPROACHING the one-year anniversary of a famous event - the falling off of a stage during a lip sync contest. It involves breaking ribs and winning the contest.
Yup. Winning. Was it worth it?
A year ago, Adam Yates convinced me to join him, Mike Sorensen and Alicia McCarl to compete in the Quincy YWCA's annual lip sync contest. It's part of the Voice For All Women event. It's a big deal. It's at the Oakley-Lindsay Center and there are always a lot of people there.
I think there were 10 teams entered, and three celebrity judges scored the acts. Adam decided we were going to lip sync to "The Streak" by Ray Stevens. Guess who the streaker was? I can't figure out if I screwed up a few too many guitar solos playing with Adam and Alicia in Prospect Road, or maybe Adam just couldn't find anybody else. Come to think of it, Justin Sievert was supposed to do it but begged off.
He missed out on history.
I wasn't naked. I wore shorts and a T-shirt. My job was simple. Run out onto the stage during the first and second chorus. Adam and Mike had the hard parts. I just had to run around and google-eye Ethel, played by Alicia.
We practiced a few nights before, in the dark, on Adam's driveway. "I even drew out the stage dimensions on my driveway. I showed you exactly where to go," he said.
So, on that fateful Friday night, I showed up, not naked, and got ready to run around the stage.
Here's what most people don't know - the audience clearly sees the stage. But the stage lights are ... blinding. So there's no way to see where you are going. Plus I was bouncing a basketball. And wearing sunglasses.
I survived the first chorus. But on the second chorus, I kick over a light by the end of the stage, and then got too close to the front. And down I went, bouncing my ribs off the sharp edge.
I don't remember much after that. It knocked the wind out of me. I managed to climb back up. Alicia (Ethel) helped me off the stage when we were done. In the dressing room, I lifted my shirt to see a nasty red welt. And ... it hurt. A lot.
I manage to get back on the stage with everybody else to hear the results. Guess what? WE WON THE #$%^$%#$#% CONTEST. So I guess it was worth it.
Allison Hutson of The Whatevers was there. She performed a Spice Girls song with some friends. It was ...spicy. Anyway, her soon-to-be husband Ryan was backstage running lights. Ryan texted Allison after I fell. "Did Rodney die?" Ryan asked.
Allison texted back, "I think so."
Adam snapped a cell phone photo (right) of my ribs right after it happened, took his phone out to the audience for all to see, and promptly raised another $200 for the YWCA under the guise of me not nearly meeting my deductible - going to the hospital to check my ribs was gonna cost me.
I don't remember much of the next two days. I just remember lying down and then not being able to get back up. I had trouble breathing. And the less I moved the more it hurt. But when I moved .... you get the idea.
Finally on Monday morning, I took a look at the massive bruise on my side. Geesh. Impressive is an understatement. At the bottom you can see a photo, but skip it if you are squeamish. So I went to the Ortho Walk In at Blessing's 48th Street facility. The doctor took one look at my side and said, "Wow!" He poked and prodded. It hurt. A lot. But there was no apparent internal damage, and I could breathe without passing out. He said, "Your ribs are probably broken. We could get an X-Ray. But it won't do anything because you really can't put broken ribs in a cast or fix them with something."
So. I ixnayed the X-Ray. Because it was going to cost a lot. Even with good insurance. He did prescribe some nice little white pills. They were ... dreamy. But I only took them at night.
It was a week before I could lie down to go to sleep. If I coughed, it was .... agonizing. I had muscle spasms the first few days and they brought tears. It was awful.
But. We won. And that's what counts.
I even kept going to work. I had the guys in Purchasing lift the heavy stuff. What I found was doing nothing hurt worse than actually moving around. Then some of the Lab Brats found out about it and made me show them my bruise. Every day. They were impressed. And Lab Brats don't impress easily.
About 10 days later, a Lab Brat said, "It's turning yellow. That means it's healing." I was relieved. And still really sore.
It took a month for it to stop hurting. It took six weeks before I could cough without crying. Busted ribs take a long time to heal. But they did. I lived.
Did I mention we won the contest?
This Friday, the same group is back for this year's event. Because we won last year, we can't compete against the other teams. We are the opening act, purely entertainment for the contest to follow. We have something spooky cooked up.
But I don't have to run around the stage. So I won't fall off. Hopefully.
I mean ... it has to be worth it.