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My idea of vacation is lying on a beach, reading trashy novels, swimming in a pool with swim-up bar, over eating and drinking in great restaurants, enjoying beautiful views. I suspect Gill would be with me on most of that.

This trip to Mexico, we did no off-reservation trips or adventures. But one couple in our group went on several…always coming back with more hair-raising tales. Although, unless a trip to the local Walmart might count considering how challenging and fraught with potential danger it was. (I refer to our short-lived attempt to buy drugs without a prescription.See my blog on Walmart.)

The adventure-loving couple told raising tales, more and more frightful with each adventure:zip-lining. white water rafting, hiking through dangerous areas, risking attacks by locals…I couldn’t possibly compete..nor did I want to. I’m old and I want to act my age! These stories even rivaled anything Crazy D has done — up to and including falling off cliffs. Every time he tells us of another adventure, Gill and I look at each other, roll our eyes, and confirm to each other that there is a reason we call him ‘Crazy D’.

I fail to understand why people of a certain age take part in these dangerous, life-threatening sports. I had to conclude that they must want attention, to have the focus at parties be on them. They can impress us with their stories and we can’t help but admire their courage, nerve, and yes, foolishness in attempting these extreme sports. It’s a bit like watching Trump vie for attention like a 3-year-old in the sandbox. But at least this couple DID the things they said they did. With Trump, I figure, if his lips are moving, he’s lying.

I can, to a certain extent (and Gill will verify this), enjoy attention — if I’ve done something funny, am wearing an outrageous costume, or am participating in something ‘not becoming’ of my age. I’m all over that. For instance: a few years ago, with the help of L’il Sis’s sewing talents, I wore a Bjork costume (the infamous swan) to a college dinner. It mattered not that I was on the Board and, as such, supposed to be capable of a certain amount of decorum. Everyone loved it. And, in my defense, it WAS an Awards evening, complete with red carpet. I simply couldn’t NOT wear something funny…they were begging for it. I did not disappoint.

I was also rather well-known for my appearances at convocation (again, still as a member of the Board), clutching a bag of props and regaling the audience of several hundred people with funny prank stories from my college days. I was trying to help raise money for the college and, using the time-worn tradition of comics everywhere, I did what I had to do to get the audience’s attention. And they did enjoy and remember — often long enough to make a donation. (Plus, I admit this fed into my dream to be a stand-up comedian. Still marginally safer than extreme sports.)

Gill thinks I’m crazy to do these things and call attention to myself. I, having been a terribly shy child, marvel at my transformation. I attribute it to growing older. At some point, you have to be yourself and live the life you want…it’s that or creak along until you drop dead in your tracks of boredom. So this is my version of ‘Extreme Sports’.

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