I think there's still scars on my face from all sorts of crap before the helmet laws in CA. They just blend in with the rest, so what the hey.
Anybody heard of the Satan's Slaves? Had an encounter with three of them about '73, around the time they were absorbed by the Hell's Angels.
One hot summer day, this dumb shit decided to pull over and get a cold one at a bar near the beach in Venice. The sore lump on the back of my head, could have been from a pool cue. When I was sort of waking up, it felt like my back was against the bar and there were two guys holding me up, one on each arm. Couldn't see a damn thing but it felt like somebody was working my face over with a beer mug. They finally let go and I fell to the floor, then stumbled out the door holding my eye lids up with my hand, so I could see. That was the only time I learned the true meaning of "getting the shit knocked out." Literally and figuratively.
Made it to the ER at UCLA hospital and was told I was lucky. Lucky that a resident plastic surgeon was on duty. They cleaned things up and he started sewing. After a few stitches, he asked if I needed a local anesthetic. I just told him to continue because everything was already numb. Got home and started counting the stitches. Stopped counting inside my mouth when I reached 50. Also stopped counting on my face at 50. So, long story short, the scars from road crap hitting my face really doesn't matter much with what's already there.
Lately, it's mostly bees that bother me. Between the helmet strap and ear. Up my shirt sleeves. In the neck. On my face. Lots of citrus groves around here with bee hives for pollination and honey. Never could understand how they get that stinger embedded when you hit them at 75 mph. Really swells the face up if you don't pull over and get the stinger out.