Two More Adventures

Adventure #1 (as told to PMix & Mighty already via phone-but delicious enough to recount, nearly verbatim):
We've been sitting around with an old spinet piano in our living room. Bad enough condition that we literally can't give it away (we've tried). Thus, we're left with seemingly the only option being the arranging of a large-enough vehicle, a couple of friends to help carry, and solid waste transfer station token in order to toss the thing. Just too much to arrange, with times being as busy as they are. Yesterday, the alternate option dawned on me: disassemble the thing into its smallest possible components and just toss the thing away in pieces. Three hours later and a pile of sawdust later, unfortunately, I was left with one "smallest piece" being a solid metal soundboard hopelessly fused against a solid wood back to the piano. About 5' x 4' x 8" and well over 200 lbs. An awkward carry, to say the least. Still too large for the trash guys to take, but a piece, at least, that I could get down into the basement and out of sight/mind for the time being. Well, I huffed and puffed and dragged and (after some creative use of a circular saw) angled the thing out of my living room, through the kitchen, and to the top of my basement stairs. Fuck me. How am I going to slide this thing down the stairs without it crushing me? I heaved to, tilted the one end back, and the thing came sliding at me like a sled of bricks, hitting me in the chest and knocking me back and down one step. But I didn't lose it. I just planted my left foot and caught it. Feeling suddenly hopped up and energized, I actually pushed it back up a stair, just to prove my mastery, then forcibly worked it the rest of the way down the rest of the stairs stairs to the bottom. By that time, I was absolutely wild and the soundboard was bitch and I fairly tossed it into the corner of the basement, letting out a howl. This experience was followed with a well-earned Oktoberfest.

Adventure #2:
My promised followup visit to the doctor for my pinkie (see ...Show Must Go On...) was at an Orthopedic clinic in the south metro. While sitting around waiting for an xray, I started noticing a few guys walking around who, by appearance, just screamed "pro athlete." Then I saw a guy I thought just might be Trenton Hassell going into the restroom. Then some trainer-looking guy with a Minnesota Timberwolves polo on. Then Kevin Garnett. A gaggle of nurses was brining him over to the height-measuring thing (no lie), while he was yacking away, not seven feet from me. I said, "Hey, KG-I'll never run into you again. Can I shake your hand?" to which he obliged. Kind of wild. Had I sat around in a waiting room with him for ten minutes or so, I might have chanced to tell him about how at 24 years old, I considered sending him a letter asking if I could be his butler. But alas, I figure KG probably has to sit around in a waiting room about as often as I win MVP of the NBA All-Star Game.