Basil down! Basil down!

This is what I came home to yesterday…

In high school some other students and I volunteered for a bike race called the Snake Alley Criterium in my home town. We were assigned the job of corner marshal. The only job we had was to wave our arms up and down and yell “Biker down! Biker down!” if a biker fell. Not hard, right?

Well, guess who got the fastest corner on the race and got to use her arm waving skills? Yep, me. I just remember this guy skidded out so bad that he made a nice large hole in the butt of his spandex and had a big hunk of freshly skinned butt cheek hanging out. How does this story come into play?

When I saw that my basil had blown out of the window sill and landed on the ground, I had the urge to yell, “Basil down! Basil down!” I could have. No one was home to hear me. But I didn’t. I did have a nice little chuckle to myself thinking about that day as a clueless high school and that poor man’s bloody bum.

I made a good effort to replant them as their roots looked intact. Hope fully they can get right back up, just like that biker that day.

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3 responses

  1. Honest to goodness, I was just telling someone about yelling, “Biker down! Biker down!” during the bike races. I guess that shouldn’t be too shocking since I was telling someone about how I was going home for the weekend — and about how we have this race called the Criterium.

    I also, I’d like to say, am sometimes taken by the urge to yell, “[Something] down! [Something] down!” when something falls.

      • It’s crazy, isn’t it?!? How did that stay so well? I mean, I never even got to yell it, and mostly spent the day being really, really sweaty and wearing a t-shirt that was 12 sizes too big. So I don’t know how “BIKER DOWN!” stuck — but I’m happy to know that I’m not alone in that urge to yell it…!

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