I almost died three times yesterday driving from our home to the California beach town where I would be skydiving today. One can only imagine all of the thoughts that went through my head contemplating skydiving as I dodged the three crazy drivers (two speeding pick-ups and one slow driving cell phone talker). The ominous  music that plays in the dark just as one is about to go over the falls on Splash Mountain at Disneyland crept into my head.

It was the Splash Mountain thoughts that had me rethinking everything. The last time I heard that music in my head, I was following my 12 year old (at the time) daughter out to Milky Way Bowl (a black diamond ski run) on a narrow  trail I did not even know existed after several years of skiing (mostly because I made a point to avoid black diamond runs, but “Milky Way Bowl” sounded so pleasant). The music played in my mind, and I thought, “I should not be here, this is not going to go well, I don’t belong. . . .” To make a long story short, the creepy music from Splash Mountain in Disneyland, was right; I fell all the way down the mountain, ended up on a sled stretcher behind a small girl named Amber, and after two surgeries I now have a dead person’s ACL.

So, this morning when it was foggy, I decided to check the skydiving Web site to see what happens when it is foggy. I was feeling pretty confident after the three near misses on the freeway which statistically made me feel a whole heck of a lot better. Then I looked at the staff photos.

Uh-oh, the Splash Mountain crescendo was, well, saying, “Dude!”

I shared on Facebook as we waited to hear whether or not we could jump. I also did lots of “research.” I now know how to measure cloud cover. The unit of measurement is okta. I quickly discovered that okta really doesn’t matter. It has more to do with the “ceiling,” visibility, satellite, and what Volker thinks when he pokes his head out  the window. Yep, folks that is always what it comes down to; dude.

While we waited, we played a really fun card game based on the board game Monopoly. Okay, moms and dads across the world , what could be better than playing games with one’s twenty-something kids on a foggy afternoon in the car. I occasionally poked my head out the window and thanked the universe for cloudy skies. Thank you, dude.

Ralphie was bummed. He had not told anyone, but was still feeling bad that it did not happen again. I felt bad. After all it was my job to make sure my kid jumps out of the plane, right. Hmmm?

As we discussed,  the once again nonevent in the car, I pointed out that I had told everyone I knew (and didn’t really know that well) on Facebook that I was going to skydive today. I told my spin teachers, my workout mates, the lady in the express line at the grocery store. I told complete strangers (the people at dinner table next to us with the three little kids whose lives I was determined to change by letting them know, we LOVE the sound of their crying baby AND we really do) and the 165 bloggers who follow this blog and ten people who actually read it.

Again, contemplation. Perhaps, I should just say we did it. A smile from Ralphie, much better than a freefall. :-)

Kelly, of course was upbeat about the whole thing (and she LOVED the Monopoly card game).

Kip called from Indonesia to ask how things went.

So, all in all it was another great nonevent in my life.

Just to be clear

no jump

due to fog (ironically, my phobia)


I didn’t notice until just now that “the lion tamer” has done 200 wing suit jumps. I have a 20 year old son, so I know what that is. I also know there is a 1 in 60 chance of dying during a wing suit jump. The next time I think about skydiving, I am, 1) not going to post until AFTER I have done it and 2) make sure I am dangling from someone whose frontal lobe is fully developed (aka someone who understands a full life begins at age 25 not the other way around).