My two brothers and I have a phrase called “Winner of the El Klutzo Award,” which simply states you’re a clod and have done something amusingly clumsy. This happens often. For all three of us.
Our father passed the gene to us. In fact, he may have originated the phrase. If he didn’t, he should have, because it starts with him – bonking his head when he would try and step into the golf cart, reaching to get something at the dinner table and splattering spaghetti sauce all over his shirt. Things like that.
Those are clumsy things that probably everybody does at some time or another. But, as a family, we seem capable of raising that talent to a new level. If you’re a klutz, you belong in our family and we welcome you warmly.
It’s amusing to write up your El Klutzo episodes when they happen. This becomes particularly funny over email as you work to juice up your escapades.
For example, in my quest to be King of the El Klutzos, I strategically inserted my coffee traveling container in the proper receptacle in my car on the way to Walmart recently. Dum dee doo doo dum dee doo, I drove with complete authority and confidence to my destination.
There were no “sudden” stops or starts. No major mountains or hills to climb. No sudden turns to avoid potholes or deer.
But, of course, as I neared America’s shopping destination, I reached down for the container and it had tipped backwards into the other cup holder behind it, which held all my Covid face masks. I looked down at the brown marsh created, and went, “F…..ck!”
You feel like you do everything right. You slow down gently at lights. You don’t pump the pedal when accelerating. And, still, your coffee tips over. You rise to the top of the standings for the El Klutzo Award.
A favorite of mine, which I typically don’t relate to others, is my inherent ability to step on very small branches while walking our dogs in the woods, forcing one end into the air, which then contacts my other leg, suddenly twisting it in directions the knee doesn’t want to go. This hasn’t caused me to go into surgery yet, but it adds to my ability to stay on top of the El Klutzo standings.
My wife is astounded at my ability to do this. I have no idea how I do it, but she can’t. It NEVER happens to her, and I mean never. Yet, here I go, regularly stepping on some twig and it leverages out to push my other foot, wrenching the knee and leg and throwing me off balance. Maybe my feet are too big, or I weigh too much. Or, I’m clumsy.
Clumsiness is key to winning the El Klutzo Award. Bonk your head on a golf cart. Spill cigar ashes so they burn a hole in the sleeve of your new shirt. Knock a glass off the table as you reach for the grilled asparagus tips. Drop your glasses to the floor in just the right way so they hit on the lenses and crack.
There are so many ways to excel on the path to being King of the El Klutzos. I could write a book. Maybe I will.
Our father passed the gene to us. In fact, he may have originated the phrase. If he didn’t, he should have, because it starts with him – bonking his head when he would try and step into the golf cart, reaching to get something at the dinner table and splattering spaghetti sauce all over his shirt. Things like that.
Those are clumsy things that probably everybody does at some time or another. But, as a family, we seem capable of raising that talent to a new level. If you’re a klutz, you belong in our family and we welcome you warmly.
It’s amusing to write up your El Klutzo episodes when they happen. This becomes particularly funny over email as you work to juice up your escapades.
For example, in my quest to be King of the El Klutzos, I strategically inserted my coffee traveling container in the proper receptacle in my car on the way to Walmart recently. Dum dee doo doo dum dee doo, I drove with complete authority and confidence to my destination.
There were no “sudden” stops or starts. No major mountains or hills to climb. No sudden turns to avoid potholes or deer.
But, of course, as I neared America’s shopping destination, I reached down for the container and it had tipped backwards into the other cup holder behind it, which held all my Covid face masks. I looked down at the brown marsh created, and went, “F…..ck!”
You feel like you do everything right. You slow down gently at lights. You don’t pump the pedal when accelerating. And, still, your coffee tips over. You rise to the top of the standings for the El Klutzo Award.
A favorite of mine, which I typically don’t relate to others, is my inherent ability to step on very small branches while walking our dogs in the woods, forcing one end into the air, which then contacts my other leg, suddenly twisting it in directions the knee doesn’t want to go. This hasn’t caused me to go into surgery yet, but it adds to my ability to stay on top of the El Klutzo standings.
My wife is astounded at my ability to do this. I have no idea how I do it, but she can’t. It NEVER happens to her, and I mean never. Yet, here I go, regularly stepping on some twig and it leverages out to push my other foot, wrenching the knee and leg and throwing me off balance. Maybe my feet are too big, or I weigh too much. Or, I’m clumsy.
Clumsiness is key to winning the El Klutzo Award. Bonk your head on a golf cart. Spill cigar ashes so they burn a hole in the sleeve of your new shirt. Knock a glass off the table as you reach for the grilled asparagus tips. Drop your glasses to the floor in just the right way so they hit on the lenses and crack.
There are so many ways to excel on the path to being King of the El Klutzos. I could write a book. Maybe I will.