Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Living Dangerously

I've taken my life into my hands.

Yesterday I purchased a bag of lovely green baby spinach leaves. I am going to eat them...maybe without even washing them first.

ACK, THE HORROR! Pray for me.

I'm not a huge risk taker generally. I like to have my own safe little world; the kind of world where cuddly kittens and puppies run about chasing butterflies all the live long day. You aren't going to find me driving over the speed limit, going out without sunscreen or jumping out of airplanes. Watching "I Love Lucy" drives me insane because she's always scheming. Watching "Deal or No Deal" last night pissed me off right proper.

When I was a teenager (long long ago), I thought that I should engage in some kind of thrill seeking behavior in an effort to grow as an individual. They say putting yourself outside of your comfort zone is a good thing, right? So I paid good money to bungee jump off an eight story tower at the Utah State Fair. Rebel rebel...

After making sure my bladder and bowels were empty, the bungee jump worker bee lent me a pen to sign a release form and then strapped me into a harness. There is nothing more fabulous than neon pink nylon strapping pulled tightly across one's chest and crotch. Woo, the tickle!

I was sent trudging up several flights of stairs. Each step brought me closer to both liberation and doom. Eight stories doesn't look nearly as high up when you are on the ground looking up at it, even if it's a drop in the altitude bucket in the bungee world. Nor do you anticpate that it's windy and damned cold up there.

When I reached the jump platform, another Bungee Jump worker bee explained the jump procedure. I was told that I should jump facing forward and hold my arms outward. He checked my strapping again, declared me "tight", hooked the bungee cord to the jump ring under my boobs, and led me to the dizzying edge of the tower.

"I'll say one, two, three and then you jump, ok?" He instructed.

"Yeah ok." I groaned.


...and I don't jump. He did not enunciate. Those were not three separate words and I'm not jumping without the proper countdown.

"Ready? Ok! Wahtahthree!"

There is glue on the bottom of my feet.

"You gotta go this time or else!"

Or else what? You'll push? I'll kick your ass if you push!


...and I sort of fall over. I expected the feeling of falling, but I did not expect the weightless feeling of bouncing and being flung back upwards. It was not in the least bit pleasant.

On that first bounce up I make contact with the jump ring attaching the bungee cord to the lowering cord...with my face...causing a split in the skin beside my eye. It wasn't a terrible injury. I've had worse paper cuts. A little injury was just gravy on that unpleasant falling upwards feeling.

I don't boing around for long. When I was a teenager I didn't weigh much more than your average wet paper sack. Finally hanging still at the bottom of the rope was a welcome relief.

Bungee jumping is not something that I plan on repeating again, unless someone feeds me a lot of happy pills beforehand. I was not happy, I was not liberated.

Will I be happy or liberated eating bagged spinach? No, but it'll taste damned good.


  1. I would make a comment about how AMHW is tossing salad on the edge, but I just discovered the ruder meaning of tossing salad...

    so, ummm... enjoy your spinach.


    That kind of behavior is risky too. It's a better way of getting yourself a nasty case of ecoli than eating a bag of spinach.

  3. Have you thought about trying skydiving from an airplane? It somehow sounds safer to me than bungee jumping.

  4. Along the same lines as Dick...would you consider hang-gliding? I think I'd do that well before I'd tie myself to a long rubber band.

  5. Let's just SKIP the high up stuff altogether.

    What's funny is that I took a ride on The Hollywood Tower of Terror at Disneyland. That was partially ok because I had a floor under my feet.

  6. once I knew a guy who was going to hang himself...he made an announcement at work, the fire dept. showed up...he went up into the attic of our building tied a rope to the rafter and around his neck and he jumped through drop ceiling...that grid that holds the acoustic tiles....the entire jump is about 8'...but his rope was longer than 20'...he only sprained his ankle and lost his job.

    Good thing the bungee bees can do math better than that guy

  7. Ah, Becky, it's so refreshing to read a story about bungee jumping that doesn't end in some heart warming crap about how it changed your life and made you invincible.
    I moved out of Blogger. Go check out the new space. It's pretty, with embossed wallpaper and lots of velvet.


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