<p>I got clocked by our clock. I was ticked off at first, mostly at myself. But as time marches on, I realize I was pretty lucky.</p>
<p>The entire situation was a bit absurd on its face. Although it is a wall clock, it sits on our fireplace mantle. To wind it or to set the time, I need to get up high enough to reach it. To do this, I step on the stone hearth, quickly grab the underside of the mantle with one hand and balance precariously using my toes and arm strength while winding and/or adjusting the time and pendulum with my free hand.</p>
<p>Although the job usually doesn’t take long, I do this balancing act more often than I probably should. Once wound, the clock mechanisms mark time for six or seven days. The thing is, I am a bit obsessive about tweaking the hands so that the chimes go off exactly on the quarter hours. I attribute this compulsion to get it right to my wristwatch which, because it is linked to a satellite, gives me to-the-second precision. If the mantle time is off more than a minute, I am on the fireplace doing my circus act.</p>
<p>This time I was just about finished when I noticed the cover that fits on the back of the clock had come off. I reached behind, got it and then proceeded to press it into the opening where it should go. That was where I made my mistake. The tall, heavy clock tilted forward, and both time and I began to fly backwards off the hearth.</p>
<p>I knew I had to hold onto the clock and also try to land and stay on my feet. If I dropped it, the clock’s time would come to an end.</p>
<p>This reminded me of an early Twilight Zone episode where an elderly clockmaker believes he must keep his antique grandfather clock wound because when it stops ticking he will die. In those few seconds, I was picturing this in my mind as I was attempting to step down and backwards off the hearth.</p>
<p>It is interesting how much memory can be compress into a short time. It’s not like I felt my life was passing before me, but if it had been, to have my final memories on Earth be of an old black and white television program would be sort of disappointing.</p>
<p>Well, I managed to land on my feet, but the wooden clock continued its momentum and conked me on the forehead. Becky saw I was bleeding and chimed in, “Oh, you’re bleeding.” She then sprang into action and in a short while, I was holding a compress to my head.</p>
<p>As I sat recuperating in the chair, it occurred to me that my wound happened because I wound the clock.</p>
<p>I know I went about this whole clock-winding thing the wrong way. Safety experts as well as anyone with common sense would tell me I should have used some sort of stepladder. I know that. I just got lazy, which is often why accidents happen. In addition, these common-sense people would likely remind me that I am not as young as I once was. I admit I have trouble remembering that.</p>
<p>The Center for Disease Control reports that more than one out of four older people falls each year, and over three million of them will require a visit to an emergency room. Elderly people are especially vulnerable to falls, but, really, age is no excuse. Even young people should use a ladder instead of precariously balancing on a stone hearth.</p>
<p>(A special note to my grandkids: Don’t try this at home. Use a ladder when you want to get something up high. Do as Grandpa says, not as Grandpa does.)</p>
<p>Okay. The quarter hour is chiming. My watch tells me the clock is nearly a minute off. I’ll need to adjust that.</p>
