I am a complete and utter klutz.

As I gingerly type this blog with sprained ankle tightly wrapped, aching elbow slightly elevated, and my spectacular body art of scrapes and bruises brightening my skin, I contemplate the unknowable possibility of human movement and grace.

I am lousy at picking heroes. 

When I was a kid, “Write about your Hero” was the perennial classroom topic of choice.  And I would sit there, and chew my pencil, and stare at the wall, and in despair, watch every other kid writing furiously.  I already knew their topics…My Uncle Dan…Joe Dimaggio…My Mother…Neil Armstrong…