One reason that I loved him so was because he was so goddamn cool. My dad played in bands his entire life. Years ago his band was featured in some old-person magazine. Regardless, my dad ripped on the guitar and was a major influence throughout my life. He was the best father I could have ever hoped for, but to the devastation of my family, he passed away when I was 19 years old. While the mere thought of it chokes my throat in sorrow, I know that he would have told me to shut up and deal with it. And that's where this article begins.
No matter what the occasion, my dad would push me. As a child my dad busted my balls. He screamed at me during little league baseball games. He filled in for Umpires when the Little-League Umps were sick. He encouraged me to do my best and had supreme confidence in me always. He pushed me into doing the unpredictable and the intense. From supporting me musically (teaching me to play the guitar, which I love), to calling me a pussy until I hopped onto the scariest of rollercoasters with him. My dad was all that I admire: a logical, reasonable man. Logic and reason were his strengths, and I could never agree more with his state of mind.
Though the ideals of logic and reason were far from the extent of my dad's best traits. Poissibly what I admired most about him was his balls. My dad grew up and went to school in South Providence. His high school sweetheart was none other than my mom. They shared an amazing sense of humor, comprised of Monty Python jokes and Bugs Bunny's cartoon shenanigans. My mom remains the glue in which our family sticks together. Thankfully my brother and I grew up in the bright light that was my mother and father. Laughter is our real reality.
Skydiving:
So with that long-winded speech over, it's time to get to the goods. Like I mentioned five hours ago in my initial text, one of me and my dad's goals were to go skydiving. This was years ago.
However, several weeks ago, long since I had given up on the idea, my mom presented me with a certificate at lunch. Midway through my chicken dinner, I saw and accepted that I was to skydive. The skydive was for both me and my dad. My dad would have never let me dive without him, but he caught the easy road this time.
Next, my mom and my brother and I went to CT Parachutists Inc. The Newport Parachutists organization was closed for the season. After a two hour trip, we finally made it. To our surpirse, the entrance to the airstrip looked like something out of a horror film. It was nothing but dirt and LARGE rocks. At one point, the terrain was literally at a 45 degree angle.
After the travel ordeal, we pulled up to the location.
The Skydiving Experience, For Real
We walked up to the only structure we could see for miles, in hope that it was where we were supposed to be. Miraculously we were only 4 hours late:
I'll give you the quick tour.
First I was outfitted with a harness:
My balls were spared no expense:
After all that shit, I had a pre-jump interview with my camera guy:
Here I am coming in for a landing with my instructor:
Finally, here's the photo of those involved. From the left: My instructor Larry, Me, and my videographer Nick:
