Yesterday we were up on Yale lake. We lucked out and found another persons handywork. A toe rope tied up to a tree that overhung a little lagoon. My response to seeing it, and Jeff's response to seeing it, was "looks old, I don't think we should try it."
My daughter Jessica's response was, SPLASH. After she did it I wanted to try it too. But first I had to get into the water. I think that the older you get the warmer the water has to be. By the time I am 60 the lake will have to have gas powered heaters in it. This is not because of the lack of physical fitness, but mainly because as I get older I get more chicken-shit.
Well to make a long story short. I get into the cool dark green water. Evergreens rustle in a gentle breeze. The conifers are drapped with haning mosses. There is the babbling of a creek. Schools of fish float beneath me. All is good. After a near cardiac arrest I get used to the water. Both my daughters are in the drink with me. Trudy is bobbing up and down in her life vest. Jessica is looking like a Sports Illustrated model.
I float over to the shore and climb up like a flabby version of the creature from the black lagoon. I get ahold of the rope.
My brain makes a mental calculation of weight ratios, tensil strength ancient toe ropes, desire to fly through the air, and the probable feeling of my head getting wet.
I fly out and crash into the water with the grace of a 40 year old man who spends way too much time sitting infront of a computer.
The next day....
There is a searing pain that runs from somewhere deep beneath my ribs down to my groin. My liver has been torn, by inards are mangled, I try to sit up and feel like shit. After a few hours everything seems to be fine. I go on a bike ride. (So that people do not worry I will say that the afore mentioned description of pain is exagerated. The description of said pain is a literary device to denote my lack of fitness to swing into the water. And my subsequent comeupance.)
We seem to live in a ying and yang universe where there has to be some kind of rebalancing of things. If you have too much fun you will have to pay for it. Yet who is responsible for balancing things is a bit of a hack. The universe seems to pay more attention to making sure you pay for having fun, while it tends to fall down on the job in attempting to give you extra happy times after a spell of bad luck. ( This last paragraph is also a very broad generalization. The actual state of afairs may be far less balanced.)
From the Universe: (The universe makes no claim, either inherrent or implied, that anyone in it will have a nice time. Furthermore the Universe is not responsible for lost or stolen chances to have fun. You exist in the universe at your own risk. Lastly some aspects of this universe may not be suitable for younger children, and some may find its contents objectionable.)