I wish I had a nickel for every time I have smashed my thumb.  For every guy that does work around the house or enjoys building/fabricating projects, a purple thumbnail is a badge of accomplishment, honor and sacrifice.  It says, “I am a handyman, watch me dance, hear me swear!”  It also says, “I’m a bad shot with a hammer.”  We don’t like to emphasize that part.

    I’m sporting a purple thumbnail at this very moment.  Since I’m right handed, I always wear mine on the left hand.  If it were on my right hand, it would likely stand for assistantship, whereas I assisted someone who had poor hammering skills.  I haven’t had one of those since I was ten.  In a few weeks I will likely forget how my current purple thumbnail came about.  I only have two purple thumbnail stories that are etched into my memory.  One of those only a faint purple while the other was a deep purple complete with nail loss.

    The most painful purple thumbnail I remember was about seven years ago when I was placing forms for the concrete slab of the boathouse.  I was down on my knees driving a stake into the dry, rocky ground.  I was wearing work gloves and it was taking all of my strength to pound the stakes deep enough, even though I was using a 28 ounce framing hammer.  I could have used a two pound drilling hammer, but I would have had to walk to the garage to get it.  For some inexplicable reason, while steadying the stake with my left hand and my right, hammer bearing hand was in mid down stroke with all the force I could muster, I suffered an instantaneous brain glitch, a short circuit, if you will.  I moved my left thumb to the top surface of the stake.  One nanosecond later I was lying flat of my back, gasping for air, and my left thumb squeezed tightly in my right hand.  The short circuit was now repaired and there was a direct 200 amp connection from my thumb to the pain center of my brain.  It was a simple message, “Death is eminent.”  I floundered on the ground for a minute or so, then slowly removed my left glove expecting to see a saucer shaped thumb. My thumb was a light shade of purple and I could see it physically throbbing with each beat of my heart.  I staggered to my feet, managed to swear enough to slightly reduce the pain and stumbled to the house.  Within a week, the nail was gone and my thumb resembled a ripe prickly pear.  I was proud.
 
 
 THUMB DRAMATIZATION

    A year or so prior to that incident I had a totally different situation.  While building a storage house I was standing on a rickety stool.  I had an official step stool but I would have had to go to the garage to get it.  I only needed to drive a couple of nails so rickety was acceptable for a short duration.