It was the fall that surprised me most. I had never been a graceful person, and I was no stranger to the more than occasional stumble and bumble, but to actually lose my balance, to land hard on my rump, feet splayed out in front of me with no chance to catch myself, that was a surprise.

Luckily, I didn't land on my trombone, which was strapped to my back in a relatively unprotected cloth gig bag. Trombone players are marginally useful as it is, and trust me, NOBODY needs a trombone player with a flat bell or bent slide.

The ice that I had slipped on was the kind of ice that loves to ambush you at the most inopportune times--it's like Mother Nature was setting me up and recording the results for America's Funniest Home Videos. Of course, without a kick to the groin, she had no shot of winning because, face it, it never gets old seeing guys get bashed in the testiculars.

Anyway, at least when I tried to stand up, I slid again and again, so the embarrassment was thorough.

Freaking Mondays.