This Dunce Nearly Poked His Eye Out

I (accidentally) jabbed a U.S. flag into my right eye, and it helped me see something in a different way.

I was one of the Band Captains during my junior and senior years in high school, and I was also the trumpet section leader. That gave me a little leeway to engage in occasional shenanigans, and I had a great group of friends/bandmates who were always up for some ridiculousness.

We learned the theme song from the “Jeopardy!” game show and played it during football timeouts. Not too crazy, but we were proud of ourselves. We sang the chorus to the Hee Haw tune “Where Oh Where Are You Tonight?” during lulls in the game. Sometimes we planned the “Pffft” part for someone specific; sometimes it was a free-for-all and everybody got sprayed.

Once we waddled into a stadium like ducks, and our band director was so angry that I lost my third quarter break privileges. We raided our mothers’ wardrobes and wore pantyhose on our heads while playing from the stands. I preferred the two-legged variety because it looked like I had twin ponytails.

While thinking of innovative idiocies for an upcoming football game, I suggested that we make our own dunce caps. It would be a change from the usual pantyhose gag, and I thought it would be hilarious. The usual group was game for it, so that week we bought white poster board paper, shaped them into cones that would fit our heads, and decorated them.

I don’t recall how our dunce caps got into the stadium that Friday night. We couldn’t bring them with us because we always marched into the stands in full dress uniform. Some of our parents probably carried them.

What I do recall is that I didn’t make it into the stands.

Before the band marched in, members often wandered around the entrance if we got there early. My girlfriend was inside the gates with a group that was giving away small U.S. flags. She was struggling with a plastic flower pot full of them. A chunk of flower pot foam had been glued into the bottom, and the flag sticks must have been inserted before the glue dried. They were stuck.

I offered to help, but my first tug didn’t dislodge a flag, so I wrapped my hand around a flag stick and yanked a lot harder.

It came out. Fast. So fast that I poked my right eye with it.

I dropped the flag immediately. My eye hurt, it was watering like crazy, and I couldn’t see out of it. My girlfriend walked me over to the ambulance that was always parked near the gate in case of a medical emergency. The EMT examined my eye and told me that I had scraped my cornea.

I was going to the hospital emergency room. Not by ambulance, but he said I needed to get there as soon as I could for treatment. I couldn’t see well enough to drive, so someone else would have to take me.

While all of this was going on, news of my flag mishap started moving in two directions. My band director was told that I wouldn’t be marching into the stadium because I was in the back of an ambulance. At the same time, word was getting to my mother that her Friday evening plans might be changing.

By the time she made it to the ambulance, the band was already inside the stadium. As we prepared to leave, I looked up (with my good eye) into the stands where my bandmates were sitting. Several of them were already wearing their dunce caps.

From a distance, I immediately thought the hats looked like something else: KKK hoods.

Yikes.

Even with a temporarily bad eye, I saw something that I couldn’t see before. That dunce cap joke could be misinterpreted in a truly terrible way.

The caps were my idea. My friends were wearing them. I was responsible for this, but I felt like I was shirking my responsibility because I wasn’t up there. As my mom and I were making our way to the parking lot, I was literally distancing myself from my mischief. I was worried that someone would complain and my friends would get into serious trouble. I also didn’t want to embarrass my band director, my school, or my community.

I was very concerned, but to my knowledge — and relief — there were no self-inflicted controversies. I never heard a thing about it, and to ensure it never happened again, we ditched the dunce cap caper.

As for my self-inflicted injury, the hospital visit was relatively brief. The damage to my cornea required medicated eye drops, sunglasses, and time. I was healed up in about a week.

My vision was renewed — and improved.