From what I can tell, I’ve got 19 gray hairs. I’m sure I’ve got more in the back of my fro hiding away some where, making store clerks call me ma’am. Some of these grays were contributed by mom, dad, and sister. An acre of it claimed by the husband, for sure. Some by my son, others by the baby. And you know childbirth sprouted a few. No doubt. No doubt!
And I’m not a vain person, but these silver badges trolling through the locks of my hair look like spooky tree branches from a Twilight Movie. Not cool man. Not cool.
But then I see the one. I use Dove, Pantene Pro-V crap, fruit mist ionizer, and organic balm. This hair is fortified.
It’s the one that made it’s debut during my Bucket-List adventure. And I love it. I wish the rest of my grays came out that way, because at least I’d enjoy them. Now I just look at them and they age me. But this one…this one is a badge of adventure. Makes me smile every time I see it in the mirror, trying to blend in with the rest of my curly locks, knowing full well that it won’t.
But it wasn’t my idea. This gray hair belongs to Tim McGraw and his “I-went-skydiving-I-went-Rocky-Mountain-climbing-I-went-2.7-seconds-on-a-bull-named-Blue-Man-Chu” song.
Because of this song I decided ‘hey you need to go bungy jumping. Get an adventure.’ And so I signed up. What better place to do that than Down Under, right? I mean bungy jumping at the state fair…well…eh it’s o.k., but bungy jumping in Cairns, Australia. Damn! What up! G’Day Mate! Guatemala in the house!
Bungy jumping in general is not funny. Not at all, but dude. Talking yourself into it as you’re climbing a thousand steps on your way to be strung up by a rubber band. Dude. Classic! I thought the faster I do the paper work the less likely I’ll back out. In retrospect, you don’t want to rush through safety procedures. But after signing away my life, I walked the wooden bridge and passed all the slow pokes hearing the screamers jumping off. I thought … yeah…you’re going to scream your ass off.
As I climb up the steps… I tell myself keep going…faster…you’ll be the first one at the top and just get it over with. Just get there and jump off. I work those steps like the Stairmaster at the gym. Let me tell you. Not smooth or fluid. Wood. You know how I feel about wood. It’s not soft when you fall on it. I reach the top, out of breath with no one behind me. They’re still chugging along the third staircase. But when I get there, three other people are waiting to be harnessed, and one just jumped off the ledge backwards. Duuuuuuuude. I was glad I skipped breakfast. As I waited for my turn I listened to each of them with their nerves and then the screams. This scene did not help my bravery. Pinche Tim McGraw.
I was a little shaky as the AJ Hackett Bungee dude slipped me into the harness and smiled.
“Gonna put this extra tight, don’t want you slip out, now.”
Not funny dude. Mate. Whatever. Not.
I grabbed hold of the before-you-jump-off-dumbass rope and held tight. Fibers crunching between my fingers. Shit. No turning back. My mom would freak. My dad would laugh.
Countdown, mate. 5-4-3-2-1!
Anxiety. Heart palpatations. Gray hair emerges. Adrenaline. Jump. Profanity. Scream. Laughter. More screaming. Splash.
Gotta love that gray hair.
The Wish Factor 