Exactly three years ago I slipped on some ice in the Sierra foothills, just south of Mt. Whitney. It was totally my fault for having worn my brown suede Bruno Magli lace-ups in a sloping area that was experiencing an icy snowfall at the moment.

Nothing was broken but over the following three or four weeks I was agony. Sleeping was quite difficult; so was breathing at times. A cane was my constant companion. From the instant I fell I was the antithesis of Lee Marvin toughness. I even wept a couple of times.

Posted on 2.17.19: It was chilly and gently snowing as Tatyana and I trudged around a snow-packed area near a blocked-off road in the Sierras, south of Mt. Whitney. Took some nice shots, a good slow-pan video, satisfaction.

On the way back to the car I stepped on a harmless-looking patch of snow which had suddenly become icy. Total slip-out, feet in the air and a terrible crashing collision.

I literally heard a slight snapping or cracking sound as I hit the ground. I half-landed on my right arm and half on my right rib area. It hurt like a bastard plus my wind was knocked out. For five or ten seconds I whined and moaned like a candy-ass. If Lee Marvin had been there he would’ve been ashamed of me. Or for me.

I eventually got up and managed a brusque “I’m okay.” 100 feet later I fell again. Fucking 25 degree downward angle plus that icy snowfall. Then we couldn’t get the car out of the parking lot due to the same slick ice. After some struggling we figured it out. Jesus.

No broken wrist or broken arm, no leg bruise, 100% arm, hand, leg and neck mobility, no lung damage and just a couple of small cuts on my right hand. But my right rib cage aches like a sonuvabitch.

As we speak Tatyana is driving me to a Cedars Sinai Urgent Care clinic on Wilshire near La Cienega. What are they gonna do if I have a cracked rib? Wrap my mid-section in one of those high-tension bandages? Prescribe some pain pills?

X–Ray Result: No cracked ribs. But at the risk of sounding repetitive, it fucking hurts.