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3 January 2008

Dear Lorne,

As the Anyone Can Host contest runner up, I never felt to be in any danger. Yet when least expected, the grin reaper can come calling, perhaps taking you to the other side. Have you ever had the type of close call that changed your way of looking at things?
 
Monday was Reggae Night at the Vogue, the bar across the parking lot from my apartment and most habitual hang out. Earlier, while driving out to pick some strawberries, I stopped to pick some of the many daisies along side the road, which later that evening I distributed to whoever I came across who would accept one. Around closing time, I was outside talking when some guy comes out of nowhere and blind sides me. I didn't feel a thing. I was later told that I was on the ground with this guy kicking me in the head, then running off. A taxi driver helped stop the bleeding until the ambulance arrived. Whatever the paramedic said to me, I was too far gone.

Waiting on a stretcher in the emergency room, there was a belligerent drunk in the next enclosure keeping the staff more than occupied. Not sure what I was thinking, perhaps worried about how much all of this would cost, I got up, walked out of the hospital, back to my apartment, then called an employee to say I might be in late. Her boyfriend was a bouncer, so she knew what had happened and insisted on bringing me back to the same emergency room I had just walked out of.

The next morning I was scheduled to do a singing telegram which I somehow pulled off, the bandages on my head seemed to work with my lavender tutu. Until the next rain I was able to show my bloodstains on the sidewalk. Like when you fall off a horse and should get back on right away, if you are able, I made a point of going back the next Monday. Why let something like almost being killed cramp my style? People were happy to see me, like I had come back from the dead.
While whoever hit me was lying low somewhere, not doubt steeping in putrid karma. 

Nobody ever figured out who or why. Some speculate it was merely at random. Perhaps my karma was not as fresh as the daisies, which could have ended up serving quite another purpose.

The show must go on,