The nose knows

Every time I look at my face without my glasses, I am reminded of Robert Parker's cool-as-heck private investigator Spenser. Spenser was a boxer and he describes his face like this in "Back Story": "It was the face of a guy who used to box -- the nose especially ..."

But I never have boxed or even gotten into a real fight (the screwdriver fight with my cousin Danny was interrupted before it started). My nose should not be all bent and twisted, but it is.

I can't tell you the number of times I have smacked face-first into a floor, a wall, a counter, a book, and forced my nose to bear the brunt.

Even when my nose avoids a bashing, like this morning, it can't avoid a scarring.

My alarm went off, and I knocked it off the bookcase turning it off. I wish I could say I didn't do that often, but my alarm clock flies off the bookcase most mornings. Call me clumsy.

As i was putting my alarm back, I dropped it right on my face. My glasses took the heavy hurt, and the bridge of said glasses slammed into my poor nose and I soon felt the drip drip drip of blood.

I just wish I boxed.