Rollerblades and hilarity.

I'm a pretty coordinated person. I've trained in Kung Fu and other martial arts for nearly 30 years, still play lacrosse, and can generally catch anything that I accidentally knock off a shelf with ninja-like speed and dexterity. However, I look like a total and complete fool on Rollerblades.

Our pug, Boba, likes to run. Yes, I know that's odd, but he can't seem to get enough of hauling his cinnamon roll tail down the street at top speed. It's a bit unwieldy for me to ride a bike and hold his leash at the same time, so I figured I'd just dust off my Rollerblades and go from there.

One of my few and inspired moments of wisdom slapped me in the face this morning when I thought, "Hmmm....I should try these out by myself before attempting to walk the dog in them."

That thought most likely saved my life.

I put the dog in his kennel, squeezed into my 'blades and accompanying pads (elbow, knee, and wrist) and stepped out into the driveway. It was immediately apparent that over a dozen years has passed since I've worn those skates, and I very nearly killed myself several times. In the driveway. Not the street, the driveway. I didn't actually make it to the street, where I would have been walking the dog at top speed and dodging cars at the same time.

I'm thrilled that my time on this earth has actually taught me something. As a younger and more foolish man, I probably would have just thought "Hey, I'll be fine! Let's go, dog!" and then been dragged down the street by our 4 month old pug, scraping every exposed piece of skin on our gravely street, screaming like a little girl. Chalk one up for experience, friends.

So rather than suffer the indignity of a pug-dragging, I'll just ride the bike again. Maybe some snazzy new skates will help...or at least, I'll get dragged down the street in style.