I really should’ve listened to my mother. Adults should do everything possible to prevent teenage phases from marring you for life. Take for example, raising the age of consent for getting a tattoo to 75. By that time, if you’ve made it, you’ve gathered enough data to determine which tattoo you’re really going to be happy with for the rest of your life. These decisions can’t be made on a whim. Of course, if you made the wrong decision at that age, you won’t have to live with it for long and blissful senility might be just around the corner anyway.
I, on the other hand, have had to live with my split second decision since August 1998. A group of my friends decided to all get tattoos. One of my friends wanted the same design I chose, so now I have a tattoo twin roaming about the earth. I wonder where he is now, but more importantly what ever became of his tattoo. The other friend got a mean-looking panther ripping through his shoulder, and then told me he needed to borrow $120 to pay for it. You also shouldn’t be able to choose your friends at that age.
So there I was with a $90 permanent converstation piece on my right ankle that would, without fail, prompt people to ask if I had been beaten as a child or if someone had broken my heart. Really, the story isn’t that dramatic. My brother taught me how to draw hearts with daggers through them, so I just thought they were cool. Now I’m starting to think they’re only cool to people who have been beaten or broken hearted.
Tattoo = $90
Tattoo Removal = ~$2400
Hearing my *step-daughter say she wants a tattoo just like mine = priceless
Although this wasn’t my favorite Thing to do, I qualified “Expert” during MQ-9 Qualification Training in February 2008. We shot 90 rounds in various positions.
Score: 45/26 chest/7 head
I had a better score during the practice round, but I was shaking so much by the second round that I’m lucky I didn’t hurt anyone. This could qualify as my “conquer your fear” Thing, but I’ll save swimming with sharks for that one.
I have completed all 26.2 miles of the 12th, 13th, and 14th Annual Bataan Memorial Death Marches. The first year (2000) I didn’t train more than a couple hours a week and I wore a 35 pound ruck-sack, combat boots, and battle dress uniform. Dumb idea! I ended up walking with a girl that was in my same predicament (she even shared my first name - Gina). We were hurting so badly by mile 21 that we made a pact to just pee ourselves if we had to go and keep walking. Many people were stopping at the porta-potties, but their legs would cramp up and they would have to be carried to the finish line. Fortunately or unfortunately, both of us were so dehydrated that we couldn’t pee until that night. This was no ordinary marathon, mind you. This was in a desert, through the mountains, in 100° temps, and the last three miles are what the regulars call “moon dust”. My hip flexors have never been the same.
I learned my lesson for the next two marathons. I joined the San Antonio Road Runners, trained regularly by participating in a lot of 5K’s, and completed long runs on the weekend. The remaining survivors of the original Bataan Death March speak at every marathon. Their stories make whatever pain you’re in sound like a day at the spa. God bless you all!
Did you get onto TV/interviewed: No
Did you get a cramp: Many!
How many blisters did you get: At least 3…and I lost a toe nail…don’t worry, it came back
I’m not quite sure what we were thinking on our girl’s weekend in South Padre. All I remember is that there is a bungee jump that stays open until 2am right outside of a bar called Louie’s Backyard, and they make you sign a letter stating you are not intoxicated. Riiight! They also offer a package for $40, which includes a video and a second jump if you survive the first. Sold!
The jump is 150 feet - the 2nd tallest in North America at the time. Jump Master Luke went with me to the top of the crane. I jumped forward the first time and backward the second time.
Were you nervous: YES…the ride up gives you lots of time to think
Did you take a lot of persuading: No…I wanted down
Did you try to back out: No, but my girlfriend bailed on her jump. They had to bring her back down on the crane. I knew there was a reason she wanted to go after me.
Did you break anything: No, but my back hurt for a month.
Is it cheating to check off a Thing that I did before I started the book?
In 2001, my girlfriend and I went to South Padre Island, TX for a girl’s weekend. We had quite a few crazy adventures, but my favorite was sky diving at Valley Sky Dive Academy. Although diving through the clouds at 13,000 feet sounds intimidating, it was one of the most serene Things I’ve ever done. For $160, I walked away with a priceless experience and one heck of a cool commemorative video set to none other than Free Fallin’.
My girlfriend, on the other hand, needed some coaxing to jump out of the plane. I had finished my jump by the time it was her turn, and my instructor and I waited for half an hour wondering if she was going to jump. She bailed on me during bungee jumping the night before, so I didn’t have much hope. Sure enough, that unmistakable rainbow parachute filled the sky. She was laughing hysterically when she landed, giving everyone hugs, and asking to do it again. Sounds like a drug, doesn’t it?
Did I throw up: No
Did I land correctly: Better than my girlfriend; she and her tandem instructor landed doggy style
Did my parachute open correctly: Yes, but the videographer had about two seconds for his parachute to open before splatting; his cords were somehow tangled; he got some cool footage since he happened to have a camera
