Right There, Up in the Air

As you can see from the new pic posted on the blug, I DID jump out of a plane on Sunday.  

I am really proud of myself for doing this, and I'll touch more on that later.  But, the surprising thing is, I've found that people I've shared this info with are very congratulatory, but only some people want to hear about it.  I mean, I shared pics with everyone in my address book, and got only a few replies back, with very brief congratulations.  I've had the chance to tell some folks about the jump in detail, with all the coolness of the event laid out with much enthusiasm, and hand gesticulation, and they say, "That's nice.  Good for you!"

So, did I say I JUMPED OUT OF A FUCKING PLANE AT 12,000 FUCKING FEET AND HURTLED TOWARDS CERTAIN DEATH AT 160 MILES PER HOUR, AND 60 SECONDS INTO THE FREEFALL, THE CHUTE WAS PULLED BY MY JUMP BUDDY, AND IT WAS LIKE GETTING HIT BY A FUCKING CAR AT 5000 FEET?  DID I SAY IT WAS A SINGULAR EVENT IN MY LIFE THAT MAY HAVE THE POWER TO FUCKING CHANGE THE WAY I APPROACH EVERY-FUCKING-THING THAT HAPPENS IN SAID LIFE?  DID I SAY THAT IT WAS SO TERRIFYING AND WONDERFUL THAT I MAY NEVER BE THE SAME?  DID I FUCKING SAY THAT?  DID I GET THAT ACCROSS?????

So, good for me!  

Among the many things I have learned for certain by jumping out of a plane is that people are generally selfish and jealous at the thought of somebody else doing something so awsome that they just don't have the balls to do.  Really.  Call it what you will, but every fucking guy I've talked to about this (save one, who has also jumped from a plane) wants to change the subject almost immediately.  They want to change the subject so they don't somehow get tricked into admitting that they are too chickenshit to skydive.  Some are honest.  Some guys have said, "I just don't have the guts."  Those guys get a little more respect from me.  

Take my best friend for example.  Let's call him.......Joe.  So, a few years back, Joe and I talked a great deal about jumping out of a plane.  He was on board, but had reservations, (as did I) but we decided that we'd wait, and yadda-yadda-boom, seven years had gone by.  When I first told Joe about having been bought a skydive for my birthday from my (awesome) wife, and did he wanna go with me?  Well, 'ol Joe backed off, told me no way would he ever do that, and I should have a good time, 'cause there was no way he was gonna go with me.  When I reminded him of our MANY conversations about doing this, he denied that we ever had those conversations, and didn't know what I was talking about-I-was-making-shit-up.   So, I asked my buddy my pal, my number one confidant for the last 15 years would he come and SEE me jump out of a plane?  Well, that would depend on when I was doing it, and what time of day and if he could drag his ass out of bed after working a double-shift, and if he would have to ride in the car with my wife (who he's fighting with because she knows he's a self-centered pussy, and, well, that's a much longer story), and so he'd have to get back to me about it, and where was I going again? And, what day, again?

So, I literally CHANGED EVERYTHING about the jump so he could come and watch.  I mean, Joe, he's closer to me than my own brother, and he's, you know, my Best Friend.   He's been the best man at BOTH of my weddings.   So, I changed the date to one of his days off, and the time to later in the day so he would be well rested, told him he could meet us there so he didn't have to argue with my wife, whatever.  Most importantly, I told him THREE times, "Joe, it means a lot to me that you are there for this.  I really want you to be there".

Joe tells me the day of the jump that he's too busy to go see me jump 'cause he's got GROCERY SHOPPING to do.   WHAT  THE FUCK???????????

So, with my newfound understanding that I, and I alone hold the keys to my life, and I'm in charge of me (yeah, the hurtling towards earth at 160mph does this to you); Joe can fuck off.

Now, I'm gonna talk about the jump.   I will save you the technical details of jumping out of an airplane, and get to the good stuff, as you've been patiently reading this far.  If you want to know all the little details, go jump.  It's relatively cheap, and it makes you tell your loser friends to fuck off.  Ahh,  the liberation.

So, I suited up, kissed my amazing, sexy and supportive wife (who loves me like crazy, too) right on the mouth and handed her my wedding ring to hold.  Told her again I loved her and bravely walked (yes, there was a swagger going on there) toward a broken-down ramshackle of a puddle-jumper plane to ascend to 12,000 feet.  I'm glad we were jumping out, as I wouldn't have wanted to land in that crappy plane.  Safer to jump, I'm thinking. 

We packed 1 pilot and four guys into the plane.  The other two guys were also doing a tandem jump, and I didn't really talk to them because the plane was so frigging loud.  So, my jump buddy, Jeff (his real name), was a wonderful early-twenty-something guy who was gonna open a chute for me and keep me from dying.  He also managed to be funny, a real pro, upbeat without the inevitable corny-ness that goes along with it, calm, and enthusiastic.  Jeff was a cool guy, I wish I could have tipped him better.  Maybe I will next time.  He jumped with sandals on!  And my wife totally crushed on him.

Going up in the plane was cramped and uncomfortable, but ultimately beautiful.   When we eventually got to altitude, Jeff strapped himself to me, opened the hatch, and a second later I was looking at the bottom of the plane.

You know how when you see somebody jump from a plane on television, it's all dramatic and slow and stuff?  Well, it's not like that.  The plane goes WHOOP and vanishes.  And, then there is this one second where you realize you're not getting back on the plane.  And, then all you can think is:  WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST FUCKING DO?  SHIT!  But, you don't have time to think because the force of the wind against you (and with the help of your jump-buddy) you  straighten out, and he hits your arms so you put 'em up at the right angle, and you're both screaming, and GODDAMN it is cold, and then you realize you're not breathing, so you take a breath, and the air is so cold, but you don't care because your ears and hands are freezing off, but that doesn't matter because all the skin on your face is pulled back, and you're screaming FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!

SSSSHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

At this point your brain has kinda gone on auto-pilot, and every bit of calm-your-ass-down endorphins in your brain have started to kick in, but you are also tripping a little on all the adrenaline that has finally hit your brain as well, and you can't really think about anything except how beautiful everything is, and you realize you are seeing that kind of altitude in 360 degrees, and you may never have that opportunity again.  And then, suddenly, without warning the most amazing thing happens:

You are flying.

You are not attached to anything except Jeff, and he's screaming still.   You stop screaming, you realize that you are still within reality's confines, but you are fucking flying and it doesn't feel like falling, it feels like you can do any FUCKING thing you ever want, because you are the fucking man, and you are FLYING! And by the time you start to realize that YEAH this is the most fun you have ever had in your entire life (and it's WAAAAAAY better than losing your virginity on the bedroom floor of your sister's college apartment with her 22-year old sorority sister), everything immediately changes.   Here is where your jump-buddy pulls the chute, and you get hit by that car I talked about earlier.

And then, FUCK YEAH!   The chute has opened, and you're not going to die after all.  Then, everything starts to move much slower, and everthing gets quiet, almost immediately.  And you scream some more and WOW! look over there at that friggin storm!

We were the last jump of the day, and a HUGE storm was coming in from the North.  We noticed a stretch of rainbow about half a mile wide from the plane.  Because we were well above it, it looked different because of the prism-effect.  From altitude, the rainbow looked like a huge area of brightly-colored rain falling from this cloud patch. 

When Jeff turned the chute so we could check out the rainbow, it was bigger and brighter than it had been from the plane.  At that moment two bolts of lightning struck at the same time on either side of the rainbow.  Jeff and I agreed that it was the most uncommon thing either of us had ever seen.  

And beautiful.  

I am a painter, and every now and then I am floored by the enormity of beauty the natural world offers us.  But, coming down from the sky attached to a parachute and a guy named Jeff, I saw the most awe-inspiring display of natural glory I will probably ever see.   Then, it was time to pay attention to where the ground was, because we were coming in for a landing.  Put your feet up, and we slid in on the ground.  Soft and  easy.

After Jeff unhooked me, I jumped up and down, and tried to get my goggles off my head so I could wipe the tears from my eyes.  200 feet away, my wife jumped up and down, clapping, and I cooly walked over to her and kissed her again.  She was as beautiful as the sky.

It took me awhile to come down completely.  Monday was a blur.  Today, my wits are back, and I finally can sit and write all this down.  

If you read all this to the end, you are congratulated.  You are not a selfish person, and I hope that you do something as wonderful as this someday. Really.  It was so much easier to find that kind of beauty than I thought it would be.  It was right there, up in the air, just waiting for me.