Head Down

Life is miraculous. Pretty much everything about it is amazing, if you look at it from the right angle.  And often I think it’s a miracle that I’m still here to enjoy it. 

You’d think with my complete lack of coordination and absence of any recognisable skill, I’d bit quite careful in my choice of hobby.  Not so.  In fact such is the continuing demonstration of stupidity that I am single-handedly disproving the whole theory of evolution.

Now, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.  And when the dog can’t rub his tummy and pat his head at the same time, you’d be a little cautious when approaching new life-threatening situations wouldn’t you?  Unfortunately this dog is fond of chasing parked cars and barking at the sun.  There is a suspicion that he might have a touch of rabies or at least the early stages of dementia.  I am that dog.

So when the skydiving instructor tried to teach me two new manoeuvres simultaneously, I nodded my head and yapped enthusiastically.  On the ground, I nearly had both of them.  Nearly.  In the air,  I got them half right.  Or rather I got half of one position right and half of the other.  If I hadn’t combined them, I might not have pitched head down and rocketed away from the other jumpers I was meant to be flying with.  As I looked at my feet and clear blue sky, I caught a glimpse of my tutor.  He looked quite pale all of a sudden.  As I turned my head and looked forward, all I could see was ground.

Now, I’m quite used to falling as one’s supposed to, that is flat and looking at the horizon.  In that stable position, a hundred and twenty miles an hour feels almost leisurely.  Rotated ninety-degrees and falling head first, the whole experience becomes rather more intense.  It’s rather like those times when one wakes tied to the bull bars of a cowboy’s SUV and he’s about to start herding some very frisky cattle.  Except in this instance the whole experience took place very fast indeed.

For the first time ever, I was the first to land.  I waited for my instructor, keen to digest the jump and organise another. 

Looks like I’ll have to make other arrangements though.  Apparently he’s busy the next time I go to the airfield.  Whenever that is.

Comments

[jon]

Instructors!? pah - who needs them?! I remember you on my second and last jump kindly adjusting my parachute fastenings for me.

Not many would be so kind, particularly when they'd had no training in that area.

I say 'go solo' from here on in

[LondonGirl]

Funny that. My gliding instructor used to be busy a lot too...I like to think he was intimidated by my natural ability.

[MrsRW]

Are you sure your life insurance is in order? I think 5 million pounds is the LEAST amount you need.

[Carlton]

Jon, Jon, Jon. You know me, always give, give, give. I like to think I helped you in some small way. But hang it, you're right! Phooey to knowledge and understanding. Phooey to flimsy silk. Next time, I will rely on the Force alone...

LondonGirl, we are clearly peas out of the same pod. It must be difficult for these so-called 'professionals' to deal with startling ability such as ours. As Jon, will agree I'm sure, I'd be happy to offer advice on your next glide. And if you have any suggestions about my next jump...

Oh, Mrs RW, don't worry. We have Pet Insurance, I'm sure I'm covered. I certainly have free trips to the vet periodically.

c.