The Story Behind My Mustache
Yep! Now I am a not-so-proud owner of a mustache. When we moved from Austin, Texas to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, we decided to rent a truck. I always wanted to do that: driving a huge truck. Whenever I saw the truck driving down the highway, it seemed like a great adventure. And here was my chance.
We rented a Ryder family-van, which can hold 4 people very comfortably, with a car carrier so that we could tow our own 94 Mazda 626. Even though it was dark already at 9pm on June 30, since I wanted to beat the 4th of July traffic early the next morning, I went ahead and tried to put the Mazda onto the trailer. I never saw what it was, but somehow I tripped over the something and fell on the trailer. My hands were caught somewhere in the trailer, and my face fell on the trailer without anything to lessen the impact. I could feel and see blood coming from my nose area. First I thought my nose was bleeding. But when I saw my wife's face, I knew it was more than that. I had a very big cut right between my nose and mouth. We went straight to the emergency room of a nearby hospital.
So, there I was, on the stretcher in the emergency room, the night before we were supposed leave for Milwaukee, waiting for the surgeon to come. I had 10 stitches and was discharged from the hospital at 1am on July 1. Luckily the doc told me I could leave as planned.
We left the next morning. The trip itself was all I expected it to be: a great adventure. Sitting so high on the road, at the wheel of a huge truck, I felt like I owned the road. Because the truck was so long with the trailer, we had to be very careful selecting gas stations and restaurants. Our truck easily took up the parking space for 3 cars (in parallel parking lots) or 6 cars (in vertical parking lots).
When I arrived in Milwaukee, Prof. Iverson told me I looked like a yakuza with my stitches. I guess that's why nobody ever bothered me at the truck stops on our way.
I had the stitches removed on July 6 in a Milwaukee hospital. Even after removing the stitches, there was a huge scar, and I realized that my carelessness left me with a permanent scar. Then I decided to grow mustache to cover the scar.
I thought I was extremely unlucky. But, I was rather lucky, I guess, because if it had been a half inch lower or higher, it would have knocked out my teeth or nose.
So when you see me with mustache, remember it is not a fashion statement.