New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady jumps off a cliff and people in the greater Boston area freak out. He's supposed to be in cryogenic freeze until halfway through practice camp. But they shouldn't have worried. Look closely. That waterfall is aerating the water. Making it bubbly. Ariel skiers use the same technique in pools when they're training. It makes the water softer.
Brady made sure some air was added to the water to make his jump easier. Which is nothing like taking air out of something to make it easier.
And no, I will never let it go. I ain't no Disney princess.
I had to clear ice off my roof last Saturday. There must have been half a ton. Yes, I am highly prone to exaggeration. It is, in fact, both my vocation AND avocation, but this is the truth. My estimate put the ice at over 1,000 pounds. (450 kilos for my foreign friends.)
The first monstrous chunk I dislodged landed in the snow pack and looked a lot like Superman’s Fortress of Solitude. I told Max (the nine-year-old) to grab an action figure so I could take a picture. (Ex. 1). I returned to the roof to chip more.
Nina (the 14-year-old) saw me through the skylight and ran to get her mother. “He’s going to die,” she said. Sarah explained that the snow was five feet thick. I could, and probably would, fall off and survive.
Nina pointed to the ice sculpture I had position for better light. Right in my landing spot. Rock-hard, spear-tip ice. (Ex. 2)
“What a moron,” Sarah said as she returned to her business. Max and Nina sat staring through a window at the ice. Waiting for the whoosh, crunch and scream.
Which never came, I’m proud to say. Not despite the danger, but because of it. The spikes below made me better above. I think I’m going to start taking this approach with everything I do. Starting with my writing. If this piece is not well liked, I’m going to put a hole-punch to my left nostril.
There. That upped the ante. I’m going to put a shark in my pool before my next novel comes out.