He Was Exposed To Danger--Danger Winced

I am not afraid of killer bees. I’m terrified of being stung, of course, but the bees themselves don’t frighten me.

My mother and father raised me on adventure, daring and risk! I’d have given anything for a sandwich. But I trusted my parents. Whether that was a good idea or not, I’ll let you be the judge. Please, slip into this robe.

We were a family of overachievers. By the time I was 4, I was 5. And I left home at 6. But I was back by 6:15. When I was 7, I wrote a book on the Washington Monument! But some janitor scrubbed it off.

It was then I learned that nothing is permanent. Then, and when my grandpa, Pappy, soaked his teeth.

Pappy was a great influence on me. He was the kind of guy who’d give you the clothes off his back. But not off his front, thankfully. Pappy was an intellectual glutton. He once won a square root of pi eating contest. He was strong as an ox. When they arm wrestled, it was always a tie. And Pappy signed the Declaration of Independence! For that, he was punished by the museum guards.

When I was 8, my parents said, “Now you are a man.” Which was their way of saying, “Get a job.”

So I struck out to seek my fortune. But the catcher dropped the ball and I headed for Alaska. As I prepared to leave, Dad gave me one piece of advice: “When in Nome, do as the Nomads do.”

My life in Alaska was in tents. The Eskimos gave me moose. But it was useless without a blow dryer. My sled was pulled by husky dogs because all the thin ones were taken. I was going to run in the Iditarod, but my snow shoes melted. And the caribou and elk were my brothers, although to this day, Dad denies that.

By the time I left Alaska, I was hooked on danger. It was my favorite part of any book. I was virile, confident and strong! I was 9. I knew that it was my destiny to travel the world and to taste of its delights and horrors. I reminded myself to count fried liver among the horrors.

I sailed south from Alaska, and the ocean was my playground! But I nearly drowned on the swings. For 40 days and 40 nights I went without drinking water. Then we ran out of rum.

Off the coast of Baja California, we were boarded by a band of pirates. What a horn section! In the weeks I spent among the noble pirates, I learned the great wisdom of their ways: Float around drunk and take stuff.

The pirates dumped me off in a village on the Equator where the sun was so close you could lick it. Which is why the people of the village were called: Mmnmmnmmn.

I was stalked through the jungle by headhunters! But I lied and said I already had a job. One night the village high priest went from hut to hut looking for virgins to sacrifice. And I went from hut to hut just ahead of him, saving young girls’ lives.

I left the village and ran away to join the circus. Looking back, I could’ve walked. I wanted to learn all I could, and I picked up quite a bit just following the elephants. I trained the big cats without a whip! I need both hands to hold my rifle. I wanted to ride the zebras bareback, but the ringmaster made me wear a loin cloth.

I lived among the Pygmies of Africa! No relation to the Pygmies of Cleveland. We lived in a Pygmy hut, and I slept in the living room, bedroom, den. And my Pygmy friends taught me that in life, it’s the little things that count. They also said not to even bother going to parades.

No, I don’t fear killer bees, but there are things I do fear.

For example, every 30 seconds in this country a man has a heart attack. How that man survives, I’ll never know.

I once had a brush with mortality. I was scared half to death.

Twice.