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Recently I have been attentive to these shows that beg on one's willingness to abandon fear and dignity in the pursuit of the allmighty dollar. The most commonly watched is the fine program Fear Factor, beacuse you know you loved Joe But tonight there was no rehearsal and the boys in the house just happened to be watching so I thought I would tune in. The final challenge was to ride a bike across a foot wide plank three stories in the air across the air between two buildings. Matt and I both said we'd attempt it. You've got a bungy cord, why not at least try? Dad says no way in hell would he be caught up there and proceeds to tell us a story about being stuck on a roof holding on to a ten-foot sheet of steel three stories in the air while it was stuck in something, he could have fallen to his death, la la la, no more heights for him. We watch in perfectly calculated suspense as it switches to a commercial break. Oh, those dramatics. The show comes back in and the girl who took two mintues to get started fell off halfway down the plank. A dissapointed and sympathetic groan came from each of us as if a pass had just been intercepted. Her failure was replayed in slow motion, in different angles. I watched her fall again and again, the pedal catching the edge of the plank, watched the awkward twist of the bike to the side, watched her catapult off. Casual thoughts came to a halt as I watched her fall and the curiousity of what a friend falling must have felt became clear. When I feel I've solidified and I'm about to burst I walk silently out and at least wait until I am in the other room and it's reassuring to have someone follow you and wait until you can manage to speak in between heart pounding constricted bursts. But I think I can safely that was the last time.
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