Being a guy can be a difficult thing at times. Oh, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't give it up for the world. I mean, I'm not only allowed to have a life that revolves around sex, cool toys, spectacular benders, and violent sports - it's actually expected of me. What's better than that? However, all things come at a price and so it is with being a guy - you get lots of cool stuff, and freedom to act like an idiot without reducing your social standing, but there is a downside. The downside is, you can't just back down from something because you're afraid it might hurt. It's one of the unwritten rules - a tendency to back away from things that might cause you grievous bodily harm casts a suspicious pall on your character. An inclination towards early retreat marks you as someone who is probably only biding their time until they can save up the cash for that sex change operation. Consequently, to remain a member in good standing of the masculine gender, you must periodically subject yourself to avoidable physical harm. Think of it as a kind of regular re-certification exam.
Take my friend Stu, for instance. It's a cool spring day and Stu, Kal and Reece are swimming some sort of search pattern at the bottom of a cold, murky, alpine lake. They are on a scuba diving course of some variety and their task is to find a weight lying at the bottom of the lake, then bring it back to shore. They swim exotic patterns along the muddy bottom, through icy mountain water thick with the murk of decaying forests and muddy drainages, tirelessly (sort of) seeking the object of their desire. Kal locates the weight and salvage operations begin on the lake floor. Twenty five feet above, the surface shimmers with refracting daylight; thin, beckoning shafts of pale blue hanging suspended in the decaying layers of disturbed sediment. In order to bring the weight to the surface, the plan is to tie it to a lift bag, which is then to be filled with air from someone's tank until it becomes buoyant and can be effortlessly floated to the surface. Sounds simple, right? The bag is tied to the weight and Stu begins carefully squirting in bursts of air from his tank, slowly inflating it while holding it firmly to prevent escape. Stu continues to inflate the bag and soon all three divers are puzzled that the weight isn't starting to float. Kal begins to search around for the source of the trouble while Stu resumes adding air to the lift bag in slightly less cautious doses. Kal quickly finds that a rope is snagged around a root and begins working on un-snagging it. Reece, noticing that Stu is now pouring a steady stream of air into the bulging lift bag, begins gesturing towards what Kal is doing with a considerable measure of enthusiasm. Stu, intent on bending the resistant apparatus to his will, seems not to notice Reece's grandiose gestures. Then Kal frees the snag and suddenly Stu becomes violently buoyant. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the moment where many people would release the unstoppable rocket of buoyancy that the lift bag has suddenly become. The instant where people of lesser nerve would recoil in horror, throwing themselves to the ground in a desperate search for safe distance from the offending object. Stu, knowing that any such action would mark him as a man destined for an expensive surgical procedure not covered by his health plan, hangs on and attempts to salvage the team's efforts. Consequently, for Reece and Kal, Stu miraculously blinks out of existence. At the same moment that Kal and Reece are staring at a swirl of bubbles and mud occupying the place where God apparently chose to erase Stu from the corporeal universe, Stu is rising from the lake surface like a Trident missile seeking the sky. Simultaneously, back on shore, the dive course instructor is experiencing a moderate stroke at the sight of one of his students blowing waist high out of the water in a classic statue of liberty pose, a grotesquely over-inflated lift bag held aloft. Later, Stu would be credited with having the foresight to scream like a banshee during his alarmingly rapid ascent, expelling the air from his lungs quickly enough to avoid having them explode like ziplock bags in a vacuum. Ultimately, Stu lost control of the lift bag when he crashed back into the lake like a breeching whale. Since the air had vented out once the bag reached the surface, the weight then plunged back down into the chilly depths, necessitating further rescue efforts. However, Stu had taken one for the team, rode out the storm, and generally done his part. |
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