If I should fall with grace from lofts ....

Now that everyone in America can record video at will, I give thanks for the times when unguarded moments are not captured and affixed to YouTube.

The after-party to Roy and Kat's wedding turned into one of those booze-saturated celebrations filled with instant friends, college football debates, an acoustic guitar passed around the porch. Plus, we had plenty of good red wine to liven the conversation.

People started climbing up to the decorative loft, and one of the partygoers was kind enough to boost the rest of us.

After about 30 seconds of staring down, I wanted out. Others were already planning, but some little voice told me I should ease myself over the side and hop down, even though we were around 9 feet off the ground.

A few more minutes, I could have eased down - but when have I ever been easy on myself. Facing the wall, I climbed as far as possible, then let go.

Mid-fall, I realized the floor was three feet farther than my drunken estimate. By necessity, I went limp and crashed onto the linoleum, landing in a heap on the floor as the room abruptly went silent. Without delay, I sprang to my feet in a suddenly-shocked kitchen. My estimate also didn't account for the kitchen table, which my head avoided by a foot or so.

Thanks to the morning run, I awoke on Sunday with no clue to whether my sore body come from the tumble or the new mileage on my feet. On Monday, the difference between running pains and falling wounds was much clearer.

Yet for some voyeuristic reason, I wish watch that lovely fall again and again on YouTube. Damn you, Technology.