STUCK IN ITALY
I am a fortunate man; an acknowledgment I will share with anyone willing to listen. At 86 years, and in reasonably good health, I take unwarranted pride in my age and quickly remind myself I had little to do with that accomplishment. Fate and Mother Nature played a much larger role than I did. As some of you know, those of us trudging through the ninth decade often need assistance, and it is my great fortune to have a partner who will not hesitate to assist me when she thinks it’s needed, regardless of my opinion on the matter. Although this can be frustrating for me, I must admit that most of the time her assessment is correct. My default reaction to her offers (or advice) is always the same - “I’m fine,” “I can do this,” or “It’s not a problem,” which I imagine is frustrating for her.
Two years ago, Patience and I had the privilege of spending a week in a wonderfully restored, too old to comprehend Villa in the beautiful hills of Tuscany. Our room was simple, but elegant. From our window we could look out upon a green landscape lavishly covered with olive trees and vineyards, interrupted by occasional villas scattered across the hillsides. Our bathroom had all the modern conveniences, but with a unique bathtub and shower. The tub, situated in a corner of the room, was deep and narrow, and was not completely enclosed by glass or a curtain. There was an open area of about 24 inches on one side of the tub, which meant one had to remain in the enclosed end of the tub when showering. When it came time to remove the results of 14 hours of air travel, I decided on a luxurious bath rather than an awkward shower. As I prepared for this much anticipated Aquarian event, my wife looked at the tub, then looked at me and said, “do you think you can handle getting in and out of that tub?” This translates to “I think you are going to have a problem with this tub.” Silently offended by the suggestion that I needed help taking a bath, I quickly replied “yeah, it won’t be a problem.” She nodded silently and left the room unconvinced. Her silence spoke volumes. Stripped down to my bare lean body I carefully climbed into the tub with little difficulty but immediately realized I could not sit down. For me to kneel or sit on the floor I must have support for my arms to ease myself down. Unfortunately, the contour of the sides of the tub did not provide this the support. It was only after a great deal of twisting and grunting, and a few heartfelt words, that I managed to reach one of the faucets and used it to ease my body into a sitting position. However, once seated, I found myself too far from the faucets to turn on the water and had to move forward to reach them. Not a problem I thought, until I tried to move. I couldn’t move! I could not slide forward, or backward, and I couldn’t lift myself up. After several futile efforts I realized, my ass was stuck to the tub! I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In 84 years, I never had anything like this happen to me. My tush was stuck to the bottom of the tub like one of those suction cup holders. I didn’t know if I should be embarrassed or concerned. I was about to call my Patience but realized that was a bad idea. If she knew what was happening, it would not be long before all our Facebook friends would also know. I got myself into this, I would get myself out. For the next few minutes, I quietly rocked by body back and forth in all directions, hoping to release myself from the grip of this demonic tub. Finally, I felt myself slipping forward. I was free, and greatly relieved to no longer be one with the tub. Confidently, I continued with the bath as if none of this had happened. Unfortunately, my problems were not all behind me, no pun intended. When it came time to exit the tub, I remembered that getting up requires the same support as sitting down. Once again, I found myself twisting and bending my beautiful, but not so supple body in positions not meant for someone my age, while pathetically expressing a string of heartfelt words. Somewhere in that bathroom from Hell I heard the words, “Oh sweet Jesus.” Surely that wasn’t me. At one point I found myself lying on my back staring at the shower overhead, one effort away from calling my wife. But I persevered, and once more the faucet came to my rescue. Using it, I managed to pull myself up and into a kneeling position. Taking extra care, I stood up and graciously stumbled out of the tub after an epic bath I will never forget. And I will always wonder - was it my ass or was it the tub?
