“Is that a bruise on your palm?”
“Yes.”
“How did you do that?”
“I smashed it with a hammer.”
Silence.
“I’m a very bad aim.”
And indeed I am a very bad aim. But I try to look at it in a positive light: It’s very difficult, though not impossible, to aim so bad you hit yourself in the head. I take some comfort in that. That’s assuming I’m not aiming at my own head, which I would never do, since I still have some self-preservation brain cells still in my head.
I don’t know why I’m such a bad aim. My vision is good enough. I have some hand-eye coordination: I can free hand draw a straight line and a nice circle; I can make a straight cut with a circular saw; I can catch almost anything.
Yet I cannot aim. At first, this does not seem serious. But it is. Aiming is everywhere.
Like aiming a car. Think of the pressure to stay within the lines. To get into that parking spot. Yikes.
Speaking of staying inside the lines. What about coloring? Not that I do much of that now days. And I’m not talking about coloring outside the lines because you’re a rebel. I’m talking about coloring outside the lines because you can’t stay in them.
Using a knife. Now that’s iffy. Trying to hit those little bugger vegetables is a bitch. And try cutting up a steak. How many totally random pieces can you end up with? Obviously quite a few. Becoming a knife-throwing side act is out of the question.
Think of all the activities I suck at where my efforts are just short of chaos: darts, bowling, bean bag toss. How frustrating for my teammates. They see periods of semi-accurate efforts followed by total chaos. Oh yes, I’m picked last. But don’t worry. I understand.
I suppose one can and perhaps should work on these skills. Perhaps not to excel but at least be competent or at worst not dangerous to oneself or others.
Yes, I should work on these weaknesses. But I have this awful habit of improving my strengths and totally disregarding and ignoring my weaknesses. Makes for rather lopsided capabilities, that’s for sure. Perhaps the first step is to aim in on not ignoring my weaknesses.
Fortress of Dissolitude 
Bad aim.
Okay.
I can relate.
Three years ago I lost the vision in my left eye due to a clogged artery, which really would have pissed me off had I not already seen “Avatar” in 3D three times.
Now, driving ain’t so bad. You get to where you kind of use the shadows to gauge distances, and I just drive more like a grandma than I used to even before I was a grandpa.
I have yet to try the batting cages, although I’d really like to give it a try. I have always been an all-fields, slap hitter type – drive it into the gap, down the line, keeping it in play behind the runner. Made up for lack of upper body strength and bat speed.
But it really hit me today. We have a plum tree in our front yard that’s starting to sprout all sorts of fruit, and some of them are getting towards ripe but awfully, awfully small. Kind of like large cherries, but I think a lot of that comes from not quite pruning the tree back properly last fall.
I’ll go no more than two rungs up our ladder to get to some of the fruit, reach out to grab one the biggest one and come up a foot or so short.
That’s bad aim.
Hammers and nails?
No thanks.
Two pieces of wood need to be attached – screw ’em.
Maybe that’s why they call it forbidden fruit. Or maybe it’s not so much that it’s forbidden but unattainable.;-)
I’d be curious to see how the batting cage goes. You’re a better man than I if you walk into that cage.
Actually, the thing I miss most about the vision/depth of field dilemma – actually about the eye is not being able to play softball and maybe never being capable of playing catch with my grandson.
On the bright side, I received a certified letter from Manila shortly afterwards, and I was granted an Honorary Filipino Driver’s License.
Didn’t have to take a written test ’cause they all make up their own rules, and don’t have to take a road test till I’m ninety or lose vision in the other eye.
Well if I see you on the road I’ll know to give you a pass and some distance.