Old Man River
And on his twenty-fifth Halloween, Dan doth hit the dance floor. Hard.
Sometimes when you dance like a drunken maniac -- as I did Saturday Night at the Frying Pan on Chelsea Pier -- these things are bound to happen. Maybe it was Ron Burgundy who crashed into my left knee, or the Burger King football guy, or one of the 7,000 chicks that went as a French Maid (innovation, ladies). All I knew was it felt like someone had just went at the inside of my left knee with a dull chainsaw and now I was on the floor, dragging myself out of the maze of humanity like a Vietnam jarhead fresh off an unexpected meeting with a minefield. Dance floor 1, Dan 0.
Five minutes later, propped up on a chair like Bernie Lomax in the Hamptons, I couldn't help but wonder the eternal twenty-something question: "Am I getting too old for this?"
I find myself acting that question a lot lately. Sure, in this particular instance I can't be taken too seriously. I did have my hair slicked back in a pseudo-ponytail with artificial drug residue and requisite nosebleed lining my nasal cavity after all (my official costume title was "'80s Stock Broker Partying Too Hard After Closing Mega-Deal"). But even still, when I'm laid up on my couch Sunday morning missing my weekend kickball game (I'm a virtual red flag super-center) the question kind of hangs there like a torn knee ligament.
When do you get too old to do stuff that was perfect okay three, four or five years ago? You know, if I had just been socializing with a gin and tonic with a small group of friends talking career and stuff like those dorks I see at PATH station bars, my leg wouldn't feel like Joe Theisman in the fall of '85 right now. But noooooooooo, I needed to do that extra Jaeger shot, you know, the one that makes you feel invincible. Mortality 1, Dan 0.
So as I vegetate on the couch for another night – I ironically signed up for the gym 12 hours before my injury – I'll have plenty of time to ponder my future bar-going existence. Cos right now baby, all I've got is time.
That, and a fucking busted knee.
Sometimes when you dance like a drunken maniac -- as I did Saturday Night at the Frying Pan on Chelsea Pier -- these things are bound to happen. Maybe it was Ron Burgundy who crashed into my left knee, or the Burger King football guy, or one of the 7,000 chicks that went as a French Maid (innovation, ladies). All I knew was it felt like someone had just went at the inside of my left knee with a dull chainsaw and now I was on the floor, dragging myself out of the maze of humanity like a Vietnam jarhead fresh off an unexpected meeting with a minefield. Dance floor 1, Dan 0.
Five minutes later, propped up on a chair like Bernie Lomax in the Hamptons, I couldn't help but wonder the eternal twenty-something question: "Am I getting too old for this?"
I find myself acting that question a lot lately. Sure, in this particular instance I can't be taken too seriously. I did have my hair slicked back in a pseudo-ponytail with artificial drug residue and requisite nosebleed lining my nasal cavity after all (my official costume title was "'80s Stock Broker Partying Too Hard After Closing Mega-Deal"). But even still, when I'm laid up on my couch Sunday morning missing my weekend kickball game (I'm a virtual red flag super-center) the question kind of hangs there like a torn knee ligament.
When do you get too old to do stuff that was perfect okay three, four or five years ago? You know, if I had just been socializing with a gin and tonic with a small group of friends talking career and stuff like those dorks I see at PATH station bars, my leg wouldn't feel like Joe Theisman in the fall of '85 right now. But noooooooooo, I needed to do that extra Jaeger shot, you know, the one that makes you feel invincible. Mortality 1, Dan 0.
So as I vegetate on the couch for another night – I ironically signed up for the gym 12 hours before my injury – I'll have plenty of time to ponder my future bar-going existence. Cos right now baby, all I've got is time.
That, and a fucking busted knee.
posted by Dan Hanzus at 5:13 AM
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