DZBone

Condolences, man. This is a very difficult thing to have to go through. It sounds obvious to say, but keep in mind that what happened was not your fault. You'll be surprised how guilt can sneak its way in. She did this, not you. Having said that, I'll have to agree with those who say we have no business telling you what to do. We don't know what she means to you, what the relationship is worth or how permanent the damage is. Usually, these things are fatal, but I've seen relationships go on stronger than ever after an affair. Whatever you do, your friends are there for you. _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

Another ex-EMS person chiming in. People can be so naive about the real dangers around them. Maybe those of us in the business are overly cynical, being exposed to the rare but awful truth on a regular basis, but I totally understand the rage. On the other hand, I knew some real cornholers who were volunteers for years, and had seen it all, but wouldn't wear seat belts because once they saw someone killed because they were wearing one. Sheesh! What about the dozens you saw who survived! Humans tend to focus on the exceptions, despite logic. I could go on forever, I won't. Civilians are even worse. They assume because nothing bad has ever happened to them or anyone they know, that nothing will. They have no real idea of the physics involved. If I were less of a civil libertarian, I would insist that everyone be required to do a month of voluntary service in an EMS unit in a busy district. I would also require them to hold a realistically-weighted doll in their arms in one of those slide collision things the police bring to the malls. Show them that they can't hold a baby in a collision, no matter how strong they think they are. /rant off _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

Actually, it was "No, Mom. Those are just seeds. I'm a little dry right now." She didn't see the humor in it. _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

Heh, me either, but not because of age... _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

Damn, I must be getting old. Here you go -> National Lampoon - January 1973 _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

Where were you in January 1973? And you replied, so he spared. For now. _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

OK, some help for the ignorant Americans. Poms? Something about a lion stuck in tar? _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

. _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

Thank you, Mr. Spock. That will be enough. _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

She lived near the DZ and used to stop by to watch the jumpers. Little did she know what kind of people were under those pretty parachutes. Her life has been a living hell ever since. _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

Gigantic? Hey! I know the jumpsuit is a little tight these days, but jeez...

Pretty damned amazing. You guys make us all proud to be a part of a sport that can accomplish things like this. Nice one! _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

(please forgive the stereotyped gay character, he fit the bill...) Carl's Great Boxer Adventure... 'Kay, so there I was, looking at all these different choices. No plain, simple, cotton that I could find. Satin, yes, black sure, tiger patterns, golf tees, camel heads...and I kept looking for the cup....I am gonna pay how much for these? So there I am, feeling like a bull in a china shop. Standing there, looking at these wanabee shorts...the Macy's guy is looking at me. I'm giving him the evil eye...I'm wondering, boxers or briefs? There's the display - Alfani, DKNY, Calvin, JoeBoxers (??? - now that's a moronic name...). The Christmas stuff is up, so it's all red/green/plaid. Some have bells. Ribbons....one has fake mistletoe on it. I get the mental image of Santa Claus in boxers. I start to chuckle. Snort a bit. The Macy's guy is coming over. I'm laughing my ass off. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asks... So I tell him about the three day boxer challenge, and he nods sagely, but he has no idea, you can see that "oh great, another breeder" look in his eyes. He tells me all about boxers...which are comfortable, which his boyfriend likes, which his father wears. "I can't feel anything when I wear them" he says. I stand there, and try to "feel" my underwear. I can't feel my good ol' jockey whities either....I nod along, wondering what on earth the $9 + tax actually buys me. I ask him is the sizing is different from regular briefs...and he considers me, puzzled. "I don't know" he finally answers. Then I try to figure out if one actually tries these on or not. The mental picture strikes me: standing in the accessories department, trying boxers on over jeans, in a city where I live and work....nawp. Ain't gonna happen. Finally someone needs some help finding socks or something, so he leaves me be. I wander over to the on-sale table, and start looking through those for something which is cotton, no lace or (heaven forbid) bell-ridden. I see some in my size, and look at them. There is a reason they are in the sale section...these have palm trees, designs, words, slogons, logos on them. Now, I'm paying enough for these as it is, screw them putting their advertising on it. Plus, if some chick is near enough to see this stuff, she won't be reading my shorts, if you get my drift....but I digress... I get 5 of them to buy, in two sizes, because I won't try them on. "Ohhhhhh, nice selection" says the sales clerk, "but I like the SpongeBob ones more". He's nice, and young, but kind of fruity. Whatever. I pay for them, and get home. Today I try them out. And I have to say, not too bad. A little, um, "lacking", inasmuch as my tools are well secured...but not too bad. What's weirdest is that I was wearing jeans all day, and really feel loose and free, whereas I haven't before. There was a few moments where I experienced "droppage", tho. How does one delicately and in public make the necessary adjustments to deal with droppage? We shall see what we shall see.... Day Two It's Friday, and I ain't got nothing to do - I'm gonna go get...oh, wait, that's the wrong quote. It's friday, and I have jury duty and hopefully can get to the office. Because it is more of an "official" day then yesterday, I wear a three-piece suit. Yes, this also means a tie. I choose the boxers I will wear, and force on the designated outfit. The slacks are not straight cut, but they're not pleated, either...there are stairs at the courthouse, and as I walk up the stairs, I am incredibly conscious of the women behind me. I don't think they see anything, bummer...that awareness was something I wasn't prepared for. Then I think about it. If I was in regular undies, would I have even thought about that? I smirk, because I don't think so. I am very aware of my...equipment in the boxers - and this is not necessarily a bad thing...I sit in the jury room, and wait...wait...wait. The slacks are bothering me more than usual, and droppage is apparent. I still haven't figured out how to make the adjustments in public, so it's either run to the john regularly, or shift in my seat, hoping I stumble on the trick. Neither works. Off to the office I go, having been released from service. Meeting with new clients and the lender is uneventful... however, I am quite aware of being cold in places I am not accustomed to being cold at. I am starting to see chairs in a whole new light. Time to head home and change. I get out in a brief respite from the rain, in sweats, and go for my walk. The tackle follows my example, and goes for their own walk. Now, not only is there droppage in public, there is droppage while I am walking on the same path where the local cheerleaders are having a car wash. Cool. I am distracted from my distraction of these chicks running around wet and soapy. I can't even pay any attention to them, 'cause if I do, there's nothing gonna hold me down... Day Three Off to work I go, jeans again because I am showing houses in the rain. The leather seats in my car are cold this morning. Droppage is going on, and as it is a looser pair then the other two days, it seems a little more "aggressive" than the other incidents of droppage....I discover that getting in and out of the car, if I do it "correctly" (not like Prince Charles was taught, thank you very much) rearranges this baggy, slippery cloth I liberally have called underclothes. In and out of the car I go, practicing this new found skill, seeing how I could NEVER do it that way in shorts, unless I want the valet guys to really, really like me. Not that there's anything wrong with that.... We approach the last house on our list, pouring rain, and get out. I slip getting out of the car, so intent on getting faster at the nut pinch slide, that I end up stepping into a puddle, and soaking my feet. Undaunted, I pretend that's what I meant to do...as we approach the walkway, there is a little mud. Not much. Just enough. This mud reaches out, grabs my foot, and yanks it out from underneath me....splat, there I go, in the mud, onto my ass. Thank God I've had bad landings skydiving - I knew not to put my hands out, just let my butt take it. Scramble to my feet, mudcovered jeans clinging to my loose package. It's really, really cold and clammy. The wife starts to brush off the back of my sweatshirt, and the husband brushes her off brushing me off. Cool. I brush myself off, readjust myself, and realize that the horse is completely out of its stall. We get into the house, and I immediately head for the bathroom, get droppage control done, wash the dirt off my hands. I rejoin my clients, and I manage to re-eastablish some apparent professionalism. But perhaps not as much as I would like. He is huffy, and he is smiling... Done for the day, so I come home. I walk in the house, and yank off the dirty clothes, toss them into the "not re-wearable" pile, and am now sitting in a flannel shirt and sweats...nothing else. My ass hurts. Conclusion 1. It will take me more than three days to get used to these. I don't remember having to get used to regular briefs as a kid... 2. I think that there will be times it will be cool to wear them. Perhaps that time is not on rainy days, in the wind, working out, or showing clients. But there is a good time and place for them. From here on out, there will be both in my clean hamper. 3. I am psyched about this major step in my personal growth - trying something new for myself, as dorky as this experiment would seem to the guys, it shows that habits are decisions made at some point, and don't necessarily have to be continued unless actively chosen to, or whatever... 4. My boys need a home. Oh, Junkyard Wars is on... _________________________________________________ If you hadn't read this, would it have made a sound?

Hey, Dan. Saw you on TV this morning. Nice shop. Dumb reporter.

Hey all, sorry to be a stranger, but things are busy at work, finally. Not a bad thing. Miss you all, though. Here's some pix from the First Annual Skydiving Chicks Rock Boogie. Not sure if any are SI-quality, but there are snaps of a lot of you there. Maybe the one shot of the canopy flying in over the packing area, or Mary, a very cool skydiving chick, I must say. Toodles!

Clay? Performance anxiety? Hey, this happens to everyone once in awhile. It doesn't mean you are less of a skydiver. In fact, seeing you all vulnerable like this makes you seem somewhat more like a "real" man. Oh, you big lug, come over here! Seriously, though. I'm all about this. It's like a vicious cycle, too. You start thinking you're going to get tense and screw up, so you get tense and screw up. So next time, you are more tense, and screw up more. Soon, you are convinced that you are just an idiot, and to prove it, you consistently go out and fly like an idiot. OK, maybe that's a bit too melodramatic, but you get the idea. The key is to break the cycle, or not let it get started. For me, I do some relaxed dives with people I know. Right now, it's a fall rate problem that I hoped I could fix without having to get a new jumpsuit. Not gonna happen. Once I get better dressed, it'll be cool again. In the meantime, I try to jump with other fast fallers, and people I know won't mind keeping up (like albatross and zclubber, you guys rock!). No worries, practice Zen, positive mental attitude, visualize, yada yada. Good luck!

Of course he does! He just has the rock-hard dicipline of a trained killer. Do it for God and Country, man!

So, I thought that the whole point of freeflying was that it's like some free-love, hey-whatever-happens, its-all-cool kinda thing. Aren't freefliers always dissing the "uptight" belly flyers who come down from a jump all pissed off because someone went low, or whatever? Whadup?

Alby, you gonna post your numbers for the weekend?

Yeah, I got 'em. BWAHAHAHAHAHA. I'll post when I get them uploaded to PhotoPoint.

This guy was the first (and only) person I ever saw go in, and it gave me a similar reaction to Pammi's. I didn't really know him, although he had been friendly, even offered to let my wife and friends use his chair rather than sit in the grass. He was on the load ahead of me. We knew there was something weird going on when we took off, but I didn't think anything of it. When I was the ambulance and police at the edge of the dz, I figured that someone else had twisted an ankle or something. When I flew over them, and saw the guy's twisted body motionless on the ground, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I have had moderate exposure to death, being in EMS and hospital jobs for several years, so it wasn't that. It was more like something that had only been an abstraction suddenly became a reality. I knew people died in the sport, but seeing it is something different. It took awhile for that feeling to wear off. Since then, I must say, emergency procedures and safety have quite a different meaning. I had been getting lax about altitude awareness. This incident cleared that right up. Luckily, I have lost no friends. I have one who is in a wheelchair, but he is still associated with the sport, and I get to see him and share war stories with him. Bill, your story was very moving. Thanks for sharing these very well-spoken feelings with us. Carl

Finally! A post attack political email worth reading and carrying out! The President has asked that we unite for a common cause. Since the hard line Islamic people can not stand nudity, and consider it a sin to see a naked woman, Tonight at 7:00, all women should run out of their house naked to help weed out the terrorists. The United States appreciates your efforts, and applauds you. God bless America!

D00d, I think there is actually some good peer-reviewed research on this subject. Cultures where the young men have less access to sex tend to be more violent. Natch!

It works. You just have to click through a second time, for some reason. I thought it was showing an error page. It wasn't. Doh!

Clarification from God.