My Dog Ate My Pogo Stick
Let me be clear. I do own a pogo stick. I do not own a dog.
This means that my title is factually incorrect even though it feels emotionally accurate.
I must admit that my pogo stick adventure is not my top priority. Also, I believe that I can do just about anything at the last minute and still be successful. So this morning I wrestled my pogo stick away from my nonexistent dog (who was chewing on it), and asked Sprite to help me find my bicycle pump. I located my helmet and ankle protectors all by myself.
I then viewed the six-minute video with some helpful hints from the pogo stick company on how to not kill yourself when using their product. For example, “Do not use your pogo stick when there is water. It will slip and you could be injured.”
Fair enough. My plan was proceeding well. Except that next I had to pump air into the pogo stick. There were no instructions on how to do this, and I simply could not figure it out. Without air pressure it would not bounce.
So I took my pogo stick and all my accessories to my office and asked my tech expert for help. He showed me where to pump in the air (right on top, as it turns out). But after lunch he disappeared and now I can’t even find the pogo stick.
I enjoyed dinner last week at the Los Angeles Magic Castle. Their food and the show were outstanding. I was reminded of the last magic show I saw there many years ago.
The magician appeared on stage swinging a twenty foot length of rope.
“I am about to perform the small boy rope trick,” he said. “I will throw one end of this rope into the air, where it will stay, and a small boy will them climb up the rope and disappear.”
That sounded good to me. I like to be mystified by magicians.
“Is there a small boy in the audience?” the magician asked. “A small boy? No more than sixty pounds?”
He put his right hand above his eyes, to block the lights. “I need a small boy.”
Then he sighed, and gave up. “No small boy, no small boy rope trick.”
That is exactly how I feel right now. No pogo stick, no pogo stick blog.
Next week. I promise. Again. Or maybe I’ll just go out and buy a big dog with an enormous appetite.
Alan
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