Actively Reckless
My childhood was one easily defined as “reckless.” All one had to do was count the emergency room visits and multiply by a number between 3 and 20. That would offer a fair bragging estimate of the number of stitches I received before the age of 18. I wasn’t a “wild” child. I was simply an active child who had not been introduced to the concept of forethought.
For instance, I never considered how hard it might be to walk front wards down an attic ladder. (Carrying an object which blocked my view in all downward directions) So, I fell out of my oldest sister’s attic carrying a television, which I quickly catapulted into her wall to save myself. That time there were no stitches, but the parsonage wall was more holy than ever. Then there was the skiing trip behind a bike on a skateboard. It wouldn't have been a bad idea had I let go of the rope when I fell. Falling off roofs, out of trees, and into ditches was a way of life for me and the emergency room became my second home.
Some of my reckless actions didn’t involve stitches. I’ll never forget the 11th grade Spanish Club trip to Mexico City, Cuernavaca, and Taxco. It was Taxco that got me. I had little experience with alcohol and my friend and I bought a pint of 100 proof tequila. We shared this, each drinking half. Then, feeling sticky from our unairconditioned motel room, I went to take a shower, and found myself on a bus going to the next town. I lost a whole day of that trip. I wonder what everyone did during all of the hours I slept.
In later years, the accidents made a little more sense but they kept coming. I was out skiing with some friends when the boat had some problems. I hopped from my skis to a nearby pier when the boat stopped. Spotting a trampoline not 50 feet from the pier, I had the great idea to do a little showing off. So I popped up on the trampoline, took two bounces, and without any spotters, went into a front flip. Needless to say, I traveled across the surface, landed on my knees and discovered the concept of the lever. My face ended up on the bar, split open from mouth to chin and my teeth realized their long dream of being free.
Off to college I went a few months later, lip full of stitches and no car to get around in. I had to get rides home when I wanted to visit on weekends. Do you know how hard it was for “Miss Frankenstein” to ask for rides from cute fraternity boys? Once my favorite uncle said I could borrow his car for a week while he was out of town. I was thrilled to have my own ride. However, it was during finals at school. I had been up all night prior to making the three hour drive home. I made it to within a mile of my childhood home before falling asleep at the wheel. When I awoke, I was unable to get the front door of the car open but I was unharmed enough to climb over to the back seat and get out. At this point, this elderly man (whose PARKED car I hit) came running out of his house and grabbed my arm. He called me a young whippersnapper and held on to my elbow like a vice while he called the police.Ok, so I became a little more careful after that but this was more passive than active.
Rather than inventing a purposeful way of being, I came up with a list of things I wouldn’t do. I wouldn’t get on a trampoline again. (I did try to join the Auburn sky diving team….until all the stories of mutilation scared me away.) I wouldn’t skate board. I wouldn’t drive on no sleep. I wouldn’t drink alcohol. If I did occasionally drink, I definitely wouldn’t drive. I wouldn’t be immoral on dates. The list of don’t was large. It never occurred to me that there might be a list of dos.
My childhood was one easily defined as “reckless.” All one had to do was count the emergency room visits and multiply by a number between 3 and 20. That would offer a fair bragging estimate of the number of stitches I received before the age of 18. I wasn’t a “wild” child. I was simply an active child who had not been introduced to the concept of forethought.
For instance, I never considered how hard it might be to walk front wards down an attic ladder. (Carrying an object which blocked my view in all downward directions) So, I fell out of my oldest sister’s attic carrying a television, which I quickly catapulted into her wall to save myself. That time there were no stitches, but the parsonage wall was more holy than ever. Then there was the skiing trip behind a bike on a skateboard. It wouldn't have been a bad idea had I let go of the rope when I fell. Falling off roofs, out of trees, and into ditches was a way of life for me and the emergency room became my second home.
Some of my reckless actions didn’t involve stitches. I’ll never forget the 11th grade Spanish Club trip to Mexico City, Cuernavaca, and Taxco. It was Taxco that got me. I had little experience with alcohol and my friend and I bought a pint of 100 proof tequila. We shared this, each drinking half. Then, feeling sticky from our unairconditioned motel room, I went to take a shower, and found myself on a bus going to the next town. I lost a whole day of that trip. I wonder what everyone did during all of the hours I slept.
In later years, the accidents made a little more sense but they kept coming. I was out skiing with some friends when the boat had some problems. I hopped from my skis to a nearby pier when the boat stopped. Spotting a trampoline not 50 feet from the pier, I had the great idea to do a little showing off. So I popped up on the trampoline, took two bounces, and without any spotters, went into a front flip. Needless to say, I traveled across the surface, landed on my knees and discovered the concept of the lever. My face ended up on the bar, split open from mouth to chin and my teeth realized their long dream of being free.
Off to college I went a few months later, lip full of stitches and no car to get around in. I had to get rides home when I wanted to visit on weekends. Do you know how hard it was for “Miss Frankenstein” to ask for rides from cute fraternity boys? Once my favorite uncle said I could borrow his car for a week while he was out of town. I was thrilled to have my own ride. However, it was during finals at school. I had been up all night prior to making the three hour drive home. I made it to within a mile of my childhood home before falling asleep at the wheel. When I awoke, I was unable to get the front door of the car open but I was unharmed enough to climb over to the back seat and get out. At this point, this elderly man (whose PARKED car I hit) came running out of his house and grabbed my arm. He called me a young whippersnapper and held on to my elbow like a vice while he called the police.Ok, so I became a little more careful after that but this was more passive than active.
Rather than inventing a purposeful way of being, I came up with a list of things I wouldn’t do. I wouldn’t get on a trampoline again. (I did try to join the Auburn sky diving team….until all the stories of mutilation scared me away.) I wouldn’t skate board. I wouldn’t drive on no sleep. I wouldn’t drink alcohol. If I did occasionally drink, I definitely wouldn’t drive. I wouldn’t be immoral on dates. The list of don’t was large. It never occurred to me that there might be a list of dos.
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