If one has ever participated in any sort of activity at which the attendees achieve close to a 50% ratio of the X & Y chromosomes, than it is almost a certainty that the following phrase has graced ones ears:“Hey, I bet we can jump off of that.”
It seems that members of the male gender are genetically programmed, socially instructed, or hormonally driven to jump off of things. It takes little more than the presentation of an opportunity, such as a lakeside cliff, an oddly shaped sculpture at the park, or a low roof on a building to set in motion the gears inside their heads. A mental checklist something like the following occurs.
1. How high is it? There is a continuum of heights in the male psyche. It ranges from “not high enough to be impressive”, to “h*$% no, that’s way too high”. While each has his preference, one usually tries to choose a height that has crossed the threshold of being impressive while not having breached that of sanity. This usually falls somewhere around “a little sketchy but I think we can pull it off”.
2. How cool will it look? Though it doesn’t seem obvious, there is indeed a reason that males jump off of things. They think it looks cool. Though this appears a trifling motive to risk life and limb, it is deemed of worth if the group is wowed by an aerial maneuver. Due to this fact, simple feet first jumps are an initial formality, quickly displaced by flips, spins, catching objects in the air, or other such risky ventures. (It is easily observed that if members of a gender other than the male, female for instance, are present, the increase in difficulty of the attempted tricks is directly correlated the level of attractiveness of the members of this gender)
3. Is this really safe? In a logical world void of testosterone and pride, this question would naturally assume its obvious position at the top of the list. In said world, the pros and cons of jumping off of something would be properly weighed and evaluated. Hypothetical Scenarios involving Orthopedic Surgery, stitches, broken bones, or other drastic effects gravity can produce on the body would most likely win out against the meager praise offered by on lookers. How truly wonderful it is, to live in a world where we act on impulse and not fear. It is sad truth, that rational thinking is synonymous with mundane.
Upon completion of the checklist, the jumper gathers his courage. The moment for decision passed, action is all that remains. A few muscles contract, a breath is exhaled, a body is hurled into space. As winter progresses in Logan Canyon, the drifts pile up on each side of the road. At the bridge just below the Dugway, the supporting walls allow a deep pile to form on a steep slope. The fifteen foot drop with the promise of a soft landing is too much to pass up. I watch as my friends hurtles himself off the edge after only a moment’s hesitation. I take my place on the concrete railing. High enough to be impressive. Footing good for a back flip. Most likely safe. I jump.
For a moment, I declare my freedom. Responsibility and rational thoughts fill my days. Part time employment, Higher Education, money, and worries are my daily staple. But here, for a fraction of a second, I don’t think about the most responsible or important thing for me to do. I don’t think at all. Its a momentary sojourn into my own life, minus the weight. I land on my back sinking deep into the soft snow. For just a second, my Y chromosome felt like wings.
