Mid City Meddler

Mid City Meddler
By Muffy Junes

If this is December, I must be running late. Did the Fair come and go already? Did I miss it? The horses are gone I think - no bets placed. I forgot about chili cook-offs, the Saint James Art Fair, Mardi Gras, Cinco de Mayo, fall festivals - I didn't even dress up for Halloween, although I looked dorky. I was wearing a black cast and waiting for December 10. In only the second significant injury of my life, I broke one of my fibulas while ... mud rasslin'.

At first, the story wasn't so interesting, but after having told it dozens of times, it got better. It turns out I actually was wrestling in the dead of night with a tag team of studded hussies who backed me into a dry, crumbling crevasse which disengaged my proper footing and snapped me down in a twisted heap. After kicking some butt first, of course. I never knew it could be so painful, slipping on a dry spot. Yes, just when you thought a sprained ankle was fascinating (I wrote about that last year), this is the tale to test your limits! Yikes! No, it was not just a sprain, though I tried to play it off. The telltale "click-click!" sang out an eerie chorus as I massaged the uncooperative calf. You might know exactly what I'm talking about: lots of people have broken a bone or two. It is the first for me, however, and will always hold a special place in my heart.

It's been a body-building experience. My uninjured right leg is looking better than ever and my triceps are reacting, thanks to the tedium of crutches. Everyone thought my crutches were too short, since I seemed so awkward on them. The doctor laughed and said, "Better too short than too tall!"

Sometimes people walk up and act like they're going to kick your cast. They think that's hilarious.

The first week, while mandatorily sitting at my Muffioky gig at Maier's, I witnessed a small brown bug walk right in the open-toed leg weight. I acted immediately - shooo, bug! Blowing down toward it and wiggling my toes, I never saw it exit. Another time I was eating fried rice and dumped the whole carton on my foot - the same graceful behavior, I suppose, that would earn one a broken limb in the first place.

Experienced leg breakers love to ask me if it has started itching yet. Like a grim secret they alone claim, I've been told numerous times to have a coat hanger ready. Now I understand why the first paper they gave me at the doctor's office was an order NOT to use a coat hanger! I don't itch.

I'm just constantly amazed at the strange conversations that come up in life. I've been quite bored at times. Used to be when I was bored at a "real" job or something, I would call my answering machine, use the room monitor function, and listen to my apartment. No one was there, but I would listen for many minutes at a time, just in case. Someone might break in, knock on the door or whatever. I might catch the water running or hear an argument break out in the hallway. After getting a cat, I would listen to see if he "meowed" when he was alone. But, already having to stay at home with a broken leg, there was no need to call myself. Instead, I was forced to watch a lot of TV and get pissed off at commercials and stuff. There's this woman who likes to pop up and say, "You look terrible...sinus pressure..." I don't like being insulted by this unknown, opinionated lady. It's a broken fibula, you bimbo, my sinuses are fine!

Then there's the Rally's rap guy who keeps telling me I gotta eat. He wants to know just who I think I am! Man, he infuriates me, telling me I won't get far unless I eat some cheap burgers. Like he's someone I should listen to! First of all, that's about all I've been doing anyway, eating! He should be saying, "You won't get far if you don't turn off this crap!" Who does he think HE is, anyway! Stupid hamburger-hocker-rapper wannabe. Well, I don't want his wisdom.

December 10 is a big day. I get my cast off and get to shave my leg. My new CD will finally be available for purchase that day, at both ear x-tacy and muffyrocks.com. It includes a Christmas track, so keep that in mind for the season. Some guy named Glen's girlfriend is arriving from Scotland. I hope your December 10 is special, too!

On a holiday note, here's an email I received from a friend who is participating in a Christmas function:

"Want to be thrilled and amazed? Want to see something you've never seen before and will probably never see again? Then be sure and come to the Voices of Kentuckiana

"Cool Yule" Christmas concert on Dec. 8 and 9.

Along with a selection of Christmas music from serious classic and contemporary works to campy fun, you'll have the unique opportunity to see me frolicking about on stage in antlers and pajamas as part of a quartet singing a Christmas rendition of "Mr. Sandman" a la the Andrews Sisters. If that's not worth Twelve bucks and a couple hours of your time, what is?

The concert will be at the Clifton Center, 2117 Payne St. Saturday, Dec. 8th at 8 p.m. and Sunday Dec. 9th at 3 p.m. Tickets are $12 in advance, $13 at the door. Contact me for advance tickets.

Hope to see you there.



Pajamas and antlers are fun things!

Have a wonderful holiday!



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