A Career Kamikaze......And a Confession of Sorts

This is one of those stories I can write that might actually be acceptable for my boys to read. I have so many yet "on hold", that they probably need to remain shielded from for a while yet. This one does not involve Texas Rangers, indictments, or a midnight meeting with a boat or a plane. Just a good old fashioned story about learning things the hard way. The other stories will have to wait a while or be told in the second or third person.......

Why DO kamikaze pilots wear helmets? Probably the ones that do, fit the colloquial definitions:(1. said of exploits, missions, etc: suicidally dangerous or 2. foolhardy, reckless), and are safe in the knowledge that while they shouldn't be attempting a particular feat or adventure, that that little voice or driving force is gonna win anyway, so a helmet probably is warranted.

Do any of you have kids that take that approach towards having fun and well, life? I'm batting .500 in that department - .333 if all three of us boys are averaged in...... My oldest is the one who calculates risks and studies possible outcomes. He's the one who, when I am trying to defend my driving, slam dunks the conversation with "but dad, you smacked a train in broad daylight".(he's also the only one of the two who's had a broken bone, but in all fairness to him, the little one gave him the push) Hard to argue with that one.
My baby,(11)on the other hand, is the one who'll grab my hand and jump, no questions asked, and then get down to working on a landing spot and if necessary, "plan B" with me, cool as a cucumber. Mom mans the medicine cabinet and the E.R. transportation,(so far it's been just her driving for the most part - she's only called for an ambulance once - for me after a motorcycle exhibition gone wrong) so consequently, in most cases, she insisted on driving on our family excursions.
Works for me. Freed me up to look out the window with Buford and take pictures.....
I took out my skis this weekend, (I love my skis)in preparation for the next four or five months and some anticipated road trips to the "Land of Enchantment". They looked great, but upon closer inspection revealed some surface rust on the edges. Time for a run to the ski shop for re-edging and a hot wax. That made me think of a time once long ago in Austin. Another "kamikaze" experience if you will....... I have somewhere, an old pair of Bauer or CCM hockey skates I liked almost as much as I do my skis. I worked a second job as a guard on the ice at the Ice Age rink in Northcross Mall, played hockey VERY briefly, and mostly just enjoyed skating. One night after we resurfaced the ice, and even before the door had closed on the Zamboni, I hit the ice nad made a mad dash, at full speed, the length of the rink. My then wife, was standing behind the boards and plexiglass at the opposite end of the rink, and my plan was to barrel up to just shy of the wall and hockey stop about a foot away from her, spraying the glass with snow/shaved ice. What I failed to mention here (and also failed to remember in the heat of the moment and at the height of my testosterone fueled charge), is that I had had my skates sharpened that day. Anyone who has ice skated or played hockey will know that to initate such a spectacular stop, all that is required is a subtle flick of the hips and a lean and a twist into it. What I also overlooked was how fresh edges & new ice act in concert. In so doing, let me just say that in executing the ever so slight hip flick maneuver to pull my stunt, absolutely nothing happened. I hit those boards in an explosion of flesh, denim, hair and plywood in what to anyone looking, had to have all the appearances of a man/boy in a full bore, effort at ending it all right then and there. Oh, and I crumpled and fell like a garbage bag full of vanilla wafers too. As I recall, I then pulled myself up, opened the door and vanished down the stairs rather than take a victory lap in front of the crowd who, if they hadn't seen it, they heard it and came running from as far away as The Drag and Antone's. God, I am so happy that I had the presence of mind not to yell "hey y'all, watch this" just before I pulled the pin on that one. I really do try and impart the wisdom I have gained from incidents like this over the years, to my boys and to any youngsters who will listen. Problem is, when you're under thirty, and the adrenalin is pumping and you really know better, there's always that little voice........."go ahead, YOU CAN DO IT"......