Growing up in a home with what today would be called helicopter parents, I was sheltered and well cared for, safety and security being key requirements for my well-being. Danger was strictly avoided.

I attempted to provide the same sort of environment for my children, quitting my career to stay with them, rarely even using babysitters.

So why is it that in my old age I have taken to living dangerously?

Since age fifty, I have ridden in hot air balloons, done ride-alongs with cops, shot guns, gotten tattooed, ridden motorcycles and, most recently to celebrate my sixtieth year, jumped out of an airplane.

Out of all these activities, the skydive adventure seemed the most dangerous. At least, it was the one to scare me the most, leaving me trembling for hours.

Perhaps I should have felt completely safe since I was harnessed to an experienced instructor.

Named Danger Dan.

Hmmm…on second thought….

1 Comment

  1. Susie
    Aug 15, 2014


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