I am beginning to wonder what the hell happened to the Jack I used to know and love. In the good old days that guy was relatively fearless. I won’t be a total revisionist and say that there weren’t things that frightened me because there were.
But overall there weren’t too many things that I wouldn’t do because I was afraid to do them. I spent a lot of time climbing trees, buildings and all sorts of different kinds of objects. Had no problem going up a ladder. Ladders were simple, as long as I felt like they were secure I hadn’t any issue making like a monkey.
Within the last ten years or so I noticed that something has changed. Certain things give me a bad case of the heeby-jeebies and I find myself thinking foolish thoughts like, “damn, if I fall from here I might die.”
Although to be clear I am more afraid of paralysis than death. The thought of being confined to a wheelchair or bed forever makes my heart race far more than the thought of death. And it is not because I have this rock solid belief in an afterlife. I do believe that there is something more and that upon my death I will discover that, but I am in no rush to find out if I am correct.
There are still far too many things to do, too many worlds that need to be conquered. I want to live for a thousand years so that I can do those things. I don’t fear dying for anything other than I am just not ready to consider giving up what I have here.
And I suppose that it is part of what makes me nervous about heights now. While I still consider myself to be mostly invulnerable I have seen far too many die a young death to think that it is impossible for me to be one of them.
Although I will say that whenever death comes from me I am going to surprise him. I’ll take that S.O.B. and kick him the balls, pull his halo, tie his wings together, steal his scythe or whatever the case may be. Death may get me, but not without my pulling a trick or two first.
I have to say that it is not easy admitting that heights have begun to make me nervous. Matter of fact I am not real keen on admitting that I have any sort of fear. It is far more fun to pretend to be one of the lost boys.
Aging, it is just not what it is cracked up to be.