For one reason or another, when men are young, they desire to be older and tougher looking, and when we get old, we want to appear young and buff. Some gals fall for that stupidly, but some folks can see deeper than what is skin deep. Call it too much Testosterone and no smart genes, but difficult to be other than what we were born with. At the overripe age of 75, I look at some photos of the past and see self samples of why I am a Simpleton! The last photo shows this stupide driving his jeep down Elephant Hill near Moab, Utah. That suicide 4 wheel road is considered the most technical and dangerous road in Utah. So me and my hiking buddies had no other choice other than to do it. Thirty years ago, I was a Sinner and the guy on my blind side was a Saint, who prayed for us on the way down. The guys in the back got out to watch from above, and at least I knew their were gals along the cliff to watch bodies fly. We knew when any vehicle that goes off the slickrock at SilverRock had to pay for the four wheeler and the helicopter ride to take the body remains out. So what, my Testosteronal's called me out. Don Blanchard hollered which way to move and I skillfully maneuvered it, and yes, I was sober, just no sense! And there was plenty of gals for the pickin, but on our successful return, none were going to pick me. Oh well! Act Two was on March 10, 1973. It was at Alta Airport in the east part of Salt Lake County(which is now all homes). Me and my college roommate-Bob Pliley decided to do our first parachute jump. It was only to show off to the gals we invited along to wrongfully impress. Bob has now been successfully married to Judy for 40 years and I have been "successfully" divorced for 40 years, so all battlegrounds are neutral. Bob was the smart one, as he knew he could impress gals with his heart, money and brain, but not Jones. He wanted to impress that blonde bombshell, but it didn't work well. In those days, the jumper would stand on the wheel axle of a fixed plane and when the co-pilot waved, you jumped and pulled your own rip cord. I thought he was waving me to jump, but he was telling me to come back in as they were over the homes that were built around the airport, like what is going on with Airport # 2 in West Jordan. Part way down the Freefall, I came to my senses; pulled the rip cord, but only saw homes and no airport. I landed in the backyard of a family home, and hit hard enough to knock me out. By the time the rescue folks found me I had one hell of backache. The worst thing about it, "Patti" wasn't impressed. Okay, third time is a charm, right. The Hell it was! A herd of cops on motorcycles were heading up Spanish Fork Canyon to meet at a Law Enforcement Conference in Moab. As we drove up the road, we could see a lot of hay bales scattered along the right side, so most of the Harley Cops went speeding ahead to stop the truck. Me and my partner stayed behind to move the bales of the road then help the two young gals buck up the bales. I held my gut in and since I hauled hay as a kid, I knew I could it again, although 45 years old. Nope and neither could my buddy-Dennis. I thought I was "in love" with the gal on my right, but as you can see by her face, I was all show and no biceps, and that is the end of the story. A sad but true story. In the next life, perhaps, just perhaps, I will hire a woman to be my Coach to find a date, but for now, all that we learn here on earth is to teach us for eternal life!
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