My apologies to Afroman ;) I just had to use that title to describe my ride up-up- UP in a bucket truck with a hydraulic lift. Think telephone and utility worker folks that you drive by every single day doing their thing high above the ratrace. I had a chance to see how one of those things works,up close and personal. The controls are inside the bucket and the boom can be extended as you rise up and down and swivel around. I remember, as a kid, daydreaming about being a bird and making my home in a treetop somewhere. This was the closest I've ever been to that dream. Awesome...and made much more so by the fact that I was in control with the switches at my fingertips. Reminded me of a carnival ride at my own delicate speed.

I'm not usually one to love being scared to death. I hate roller coasters, but I love whitewater rafting. While I have a healthy respect for the perils of Mother Nature, nothing is more enjoyable to me than a good old fashioned thunderstorm. The couple of times that I've flown were fun, even considering the no doors on the helicopter thing. Poops has always had the tendency to shy away from adventure because of that old demon called control, which is rooted in fear which is ...well. You know. Scary.

So much of one's life is spent playing by the rules and being politically correct and standing for nothing but being on the safe side or in the majority. That's the one good thing I can say about being middle aged. They can kill me, but they haven't eaten me yet! The faithful part of me says that there must be something I've been put here to do that I haven't accomplished thus far. Could it be learning to trust again?