Iceaxe
04-24-2008, 07:43 PM
Staying alive beats dying doing what you love to do
By Craig Medred - McClatchy Newspapers
''I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.''
- Jack London
''I would rather not my final epitaph be: 'He died doing what he loved' because you can't partake of the excitement of living when you're dead.''
- Craig Medred
ANCHORAGE, Alaska - ''You could die,'' the young man said over the telephone, ''in an automobile accident tomorrow or get seriously injured falling down your stairs.''
And he was 100 percent correct.
The most dangerous thing most Americans do is drive. Unless they cycle - either motor or bicycle.
As someone who does a fair bit of the latter, and thus has time to watch American motorists, I can testify that the roadways are full of inattentive drivers preoccupied with eating or putting on their makeup or talking on the cell phone.
So, yeah, being on the roads is dangerous, and there is no doubt you can slip on the stairs any day.
Given this, the young man was very correct in his observation about everyday risks.
He was equally wrong about the ski accident that put his friend in the hospital with busted bones and a tube in his throat.
Right here, I should confess that I tried not to write about ski safety again this week, tried to push it away like a bad dream.
Then John Nicoletta followed Ben Johnson off the cliffs at the Alyeska Resort, and this time the story didn't end at the hospital.
This time the story ended at the morgue, and the scary thing is that I'm sure there are friends of Nicoletta out there thinking like friends of Johnson:
''Nine times out of 10, he would have landed that jump.''
This was the view of the friend of Johnson who called irate about my questioning the first, bone-smashing accident inspired by the extreme ski competition at Alyeska.
Let's not quibble over the accuracy of this 9-in-10 claim, but accept for the moment that it is true.
What kind of odds are these for risking life or limb?
If you had a set of stairs that sent you to the hospital every 10th trip down, you'd fix the stairs.
If you ended up in an automobile accident every 10th time you got in the car, you'd demand someone do something about highway safety.
And yet, there appear to be people who think these are acceptable odds for what have come to be called ''extreme sports.''
These are not sports like auto racing or mountaineering or downhill skiing, where participants or organizers go to considerable lengths to try to ensure safety. Still, they remain inherently dangerous.
But there is a huge difference between mountaineering (they rope up, don't they?) and auto racing on the one hand and X-treme skiing or snowmobiling on the other.
Auto racing lacks ''no crash zones,'' places where if you crash, you probably die.
It could have such zones. Just get rid of the safety gear in the cars and go back to poorly designed tracks.
Then auto racing might qualify as one of those extreme sports that appear designed to maximize the chances of someone saying about a competitor:
''He died doing what he loved.''
Mock me as Grandpa Craig if you must, but I'd like to live a long life doing what I love and die in my sleep.
That's why I wear a helmet (though I'm no fan of helmets) and keep my head on a swivel when I'm on the bike. It's also way why I avoid hucking off things while skiing.
Still I've done more than my share of crazy things in the mountains of Alaska.
I still do on occasion, but I've survived long enough to realize that what you want to do there is minimize risk, not maximize it, because it is hard to ski, mountain bike, climb or do much anything fun from a hospital bed.
And it is impossible to do it from the grave.
I am not trying to be funny-frankly, it's not a laughing matter.
Anyone who thinks nine in 10 odds are good is asking for an early death.
Russian roulette has odds of 5 in 6. To make this more easily comparable for those of you weak in math, that translates to odds of 10 in 12.
Nine in 10 for hucking yourself off a cliff on skis.
Ten in 12 for spinning the cylinder on a handgun and dropping the hammer on the chamber.
Do those really sound like good odds to you?
Only if you have a death wish.
If that's the case, why not go directly to the end?
Do not schuss a thousand great runs. Do not collect a million great memories.
Just take a flier off a 1,000-foot cliff and leave your friends to mourn and repeat:
''At least he died doing what he loved.''
Me, I'd rather never hear that phrase again, because nine times out of 10 it means somebody made a mistake and will never again do any of the things they love.
By Craig Medred - McClatchy Newspapers
''I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.''
- Jack London
''I would rather not my final epitaph be: 'He died doing what he loved' because you can't partake of the excitement of living when you're dead.''
- Craig Medred
ANCHORAGE, Alaska - ''You could die,'' the young man said over the telephone, ''in an automobile accident tomorrow or get seriously injured falling down your stairs.''
And he was 100 percent correct.
The most dangerous thing most Americans do is drive. Unless they cycle - either motor or bicycle.
As someone who does a fair bit of the latter, and thus has time to watch American motorists, I can testify that the roadways are full of inattentive drivers preoccupied with eating or putting on their makeup or talking on the cell phone.
So, yeah, being on the roads is dangerous, and there is no doubt you can slip on the stairs any day.
Given this, the young man was very correct in his observation about everyday risks.
He was equally wrong about the ski accident that put his friend in the hospital with busted bones and a tube in his throat.
Right here, I should confess that I tried not to write about ski safety again this week, tried to push it away like a bad dream.
Then John Nicoletta followed Ben Johnson off the cliffs at the Alyeska Resort, and this time the story didn't end at the hospital.
This time the story ended at the morgue, and the scary thing is that I'm sure there are friends of Nicoletta out there thinking like friends of Johnson:
''Nine times out of 10, he would have landed that jump.''
This was the view of the friend of Johnson who called irate about my questioning the first, bone-smashing accident inspired by the extreme ski competition at Alyeska.
Let's not quibble over the accuracy of this 9-in-10 claim, but accept for the moment that it is true.
What kind of odds are these for risking life or limb?
If you had a set of stairs that sent you to the hospital every 10th trip down, you'd fix the stairs.
If you ended up in an automobile accident every 10th time you got in the car, you'd demand someone do something about highway safety.
And yet, there appear to be people who think these are acceptable odds for what have come to be called ''extreme sports.''
These are not sports like auto racing or mountaineering or downhill skiing, where participants or organizers go to considerable lengths to try to ensure safety. Still, they remain inherently dangerous.
But there is a huge difference between mountaineering (they rope up, don't they?) and auto racing on the one hand and X-treme skiing or snowmobiling on the other.
Auto racing lacks ''no crash zones,'' places where if you crash, you probably die.
It could have such zones. Just get rid of the safety gear in the cars and go back to poorly designed tracks.
Then auto racing might qualify as one of those extreme sports that appear designed to maximize the chances of someone saying about a competitor:
''He died doing what he loved.''
Mock me as Grandpa Craig if you must, but I'd like to live a long life doing what I love and die in my sleep.
That's why I wear a helmet (though I'm no fan of helmets) and keep my head on a swivel when I'm on the bike. It's also way why I avoid hucking off things while skiing.
Still I've done more than my share of crazy things in the mountains of Alaska.
I still do on occasion, but I've survived long enough to realize that what you want to do there is minimize risk, not maximize it, because it is hard to ski, mountain bike, climb or do much anything fun from a hospital bed.
And it is impossible to do it from the grave.
I am not trying to be funny-frankly, it's not a laughing matter.
Anyone who thinks nine in 10 odds are good is asking for an early death.
Russian roulette has odds of 5 in 6. To make this more easily comparable for those of you weak in math, that translates to odds of 10 in 12.
Nine in 10 for hucking yourself off a cliff on skis.
Ten in 12 for spinning the cylinder on a handgun and dropping the hammer on the chamber.
Do those really sound like good odds to you?
Only if you have a death wish.
If that's the case, why not go directly to the end?
Do not schuss a thousand great runs. Do not collect a million great memories.
Just take a flier off a 1,000-foot cliff and leave your friends to mourn and repeat:
''At least he died doing what he loved.''
Me, I'd rather never hear that phrase again, because nine times out of 10 it means somebody made a mistake and will never again do any of the things they love.