Once upon a time… I was in my young 20’s and a really fervent newish Christian, so there was no alcohol involved in the making of this story, in fact, this happened at church. If this as a party story, or if I had been drinking, it would simply be unfortunate and not quite so telling.
I was at the church with a group of friends. We were trying to open a coconut. I remember that someone went to find a chisel and a hammer. I vaguely remember trying to hold the nut still while someone hammered it. I may have been laughing. Some of my memories of the event remain decidedly hazy, for reasons that will soon be apparent. I do know that the coconut remained stubbornly unopened. No worries here, though. I’d seen plenty of Looney Toons. Wiley and that Ole Roadrunner, they were my favorite. I knew how cartoon characters opened a coconut.
Now I feel that I should insert into the story here the fact that I’d just finished my first year of college as a Biology major (Premed) and had a decent GPA. I was taking a seminary class at the time of this story, I think, and doing well in it. It is fair to say that I do not have a subpar intelligence. This did not stop me from looking to a Coyote who blew himself up several times a week for wisdom on how to handle my current crisis.
What happened next had to have been pure childish instinct, I’d like to hope that there was no forethought involved! I grasped that coconut firmly in my left hand. I drew back my arm. I slammed the coconut into my forehead with as much strength as I could muster. Everything after that is a bit of a blur.
The coconut did not open.
I gave myself a concussion, at least according to a much more practically minded friend, who was a nursing major at the time. I remember ice, and dizziness, and maybe even vomit.
Hence I became known as Coconutty, and forever more purchase coconut in a can.