Don't sit on the sidelines (09/08/2008)

It was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Last week we held the second half of my mom's birthday party at my brother David's house.

This was because his son, the almost-teenager Jadyn, was bored at his grandma's. So we all packed up and went to David's. That's when the trouble started.

David's wife, Apryl, had just gotten out of bed. She works the nightshift at a Dayton hospital. She was surprisingly cheerful for just having awakened.

Jadyn promptly enlisted me to jump on their trampoline with him. This is not a wise move at any time. It was worse that day because I had a trace of a migraine.

Fool that I am, I got on the trampoline anyway. I was instructed to sit in the middle and hold onto my feet while Jadyn jumped and bounced me around. Then it was his turn to sit while I jumped.

Do you remember that old joke about the guy who hit himself in the head with a hammer because it felt so good when he stopped? That's about how I felt. If I didn't know better I would have sworn that my skull was flying apart and slamming back into my brain with every bounce. I finally escaped and let Apryl take my place so Jadyn could pretend he was Superman flying through the air.

After my other brother had a turn, they decided I should try out David's latest contraption. He called it a sand rail but it looked like an oversized go-kart for two. He had traded his motorcycle for it.

Jadyn drove. Only problem was that it was a stick shift and he isn't quite tall enough to push the clutch all the way in.

Not that he didn't try. He managed to throw me through the non-existent windshield every time he thought it was necessary to switch gears. Then he would floor it and head directly towards the center of the nearest tree or shrub. We never actually hit anything but I was very grateful for the homemade seat belts and the grab bars.

When I told the trampoline story to someone, she told me a better one. She said she had gotten on a roller coaster while she had a migraine. I can't even imagine that kind of agony.

We both agreed that we were going to be in pain anyway so we might as well have fun while we were at it. It wasn't going to hurt any less and it felt so incredibly good when it stopped.

It used to be that middle-aged people were expected to sit on the sidelines and watch the younger ones have fun. I can't imagine my mother, or any of my aunts and uncles playing with any of us cousins. It simply wasn't done. The kids played and the adults talked. That was the way things were.

As long as my nieces and nephews allow it, I intend to join in their activities and enjoy myself. I know that most of what they ask me to do is for their own benefit, as in, "bounce me on the trampoline; let me take you for a ride," or whatever. Then there's the ever-popular "hey, do you want to check out my dad's latest invention?" It doesn't matter that they try to make me scream or that I am sore for a week afterwards.

Life is too short to sit on the sidelines and watch everybody else have fun. Besides, it feels so good when I stop.[[In-content Ad]]