Tuesday, October 11, 2017
Today I am grateful for daredevils. . .and I am also grateful I am not one of them. I think I’m at the point in my life where I don’t want so much information, yet there are now a gazillion ways for it to seep into my pea brain, sending me into overload. Like the antics of people.
It seems there is always someone doing some daring, risky thing, just because. The other day I watch an 87 year old man dropped from the highest point ever on a bungee cord. There are 100 year olds who celebrate by jumping out of an airplane. Others will try their hand at hang gliding, free falling and mountain climbing, just to celebrate their age. What ever happened to a nice carrot cake? Geeze.
It’s okay with me if those daredevil escapades float their boat, but count me out. I have never wanted to jump out of a plane. Never. I barely want to even get into a plane these days. I don’t trust lawn furniture to hold me so I’m not likely to put my faith in a big rubber band, leaving me out of the bungee jump. No thanks. Hang gliding doesn’t sound like too much fun and the only free fall I am involved in happens when I take off my bra. I have friends who enjoy hand-over-fist mountain climbing where they have to squeeze themselves through gorges. But I’ve spent hours trying to get into Spanx so I’m good.
I get it if there is something you’ve always wanted to do, because I realized the other day that I’d like to ride in a helicopter sometime. Since I know how these things work, let me clarify. I would like to ride in a helicopter as a tourist-type passenger, not because I’m being medivacked because some idiot blew a red light and smashed into me. Got it?
I also really enjoyed the one time I went scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef. I’d like to scuba dive in a safe place again. I’d like to snorkel again. Love that. I want to swim with dolphins, go on an African photo safari, rent a Winnebago and travel the continental USA. I’d like to take a train across Canada and ride on the Orient Express. None of those things involve me being in a harness! Herself is all done with harnesses.
Many people who have the “daring” gene become vigilantes over it. “You HAVE to try walking along this 10,000 foot high, ten-inch-wide path where the rocks crumble behind you and fall down the ravine.” Why? Tempting the fates? Too old to give a shit if you croak? Changed your will and want to stick it to the relatives? Maybe they love it all, but maybe they think the crazier the stuff they do will fool people into believing that they are not getting old? Hah! I have news for you. You’re getting old anyway. If you’re lucky.
Dangling upside down from a bungee cord might ward off gravity for ten minutes but when you’re unhooked and upright again, it’ll all fall right back where it was, drooping around your middle and thickening your ankles. Not to mention what happens to other body parts. When my swim suit starts to lose its elasticity and we do a lot of jumping, my boobs give me a big enough whiplash, thank you very much. Can’t imagine what would happen in free-fall.
I’m not a scaredy-cat, witnessed by the fact that I’ve ridden an elephant in a real jungle and I have kids and step kids. Talk about daring. But the extreme daredevil stuff? You go ahead and enjoy. I just don’t see the point. Hey, I drive in New York City and Philly. That’s daring enough for me.
(If you can stand more of me, go to http://heartprintsdotcom.wordpress.com)