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Last night I was sleeping soundly, plunging down into the levels of REM sleep, when all of a sudden I woke myself up by plunging my head down firmly into the corner of the endtable beside my bed. I'm not sure what I could have been dreaming about...maybe I was a soccer player, head-butting the ball into the net for a winning goal. Or maybe a rockstar, head-banging at a concert in front of millions. Or maybe I am just a dummy who likes to bang my head into things when I sleep. It was so painful, I woke up with a huge goose-egg on my forehead (which hasn't gone away yet). The rest of the night I dreamt that I showed up to work with a concussion and was in a daze and had forgotten to wear shoes, and had no make-up on, and my hair was crazy and I was so sleepy but everyone was trying to keep me awake because you're never supposed to fall asleep when you have a concussion! Which is true, except that I was already asleep as I was thinking about this.
This reminds me of all the times I have injured my head through the years...footballs to the face...basketballs to the skull (I was always a little slow with that whole 'Heads up!' thing)....frizbees to the forehead...you get the idea. One time in highschool I was playing flag football in our church parking lot and I took a hard elbow to the face from one of the guys, giving me a black eye. I covered my swollen face as my friend offered to walk me up to put ice on it. My youth pastor called after us as we were walking and as she turned to answer him she proceeded to walk me directly into the side of a handicapped parking sign, turning my other eye black and blue!
Another time in college I really did get a concussion---by the most embarrassing means possible. You probably won't believe this... but I ran head-first into a glass elevator.
"How does one do such a thing?"-you might ask.
I wouldn't believe it either, except that I was there and saw it happen.
Well, I didn't really see it happen so much as feel it happen.
I was at the mall with a friend and I told him I'd race him to the elevator. So I started running, but apparently I don't have the greatest depth perception of light refraction, and before I knew what hit me....well, I hit the end of the glass elevator.
(To answer your question...Yes, the hours in the ER were worth it to win the race.)

So, Mr. Solomon, were you thinking of me when you wrote about whacks on the head of a fool?