As a Certified Safety Professional (CSP), you could easily conclude that I would take few risks that put me in harm’s way. But I am human and we can’t eliminate all risks. I drive. I climb ladders. I use sharp objects. The difference is that, most of the time (one weasel word) I’m perhaps (second weasel word for emphasis) more thoughtful in doing these things. Other people may be-bop down a flight of stairs while looking at their iPhone. I merely go down the stairs holding the railing. Even while carrying a laundry basket. Ho hum you are thinking. But I am thinking that the #1 cause of injuries at J&J is slips, trips and falls -- and I am thinking about how a fall is so often ‘the beginning of the end’ for people getting older. Case in point…tonight I will go to the wake of a colleague’s father-in-law, who fell just two weeks ago.
I was hardly raised in bubble-wrap by over-cautious parents. We climbed trees; we squashed pennies on the railroad tracks; I’ve licked a 9V battery, ate food that fell on the floor and I walked to and from school at a pretty young age. In college, I remember dropping pieces of elemental sodium in water (it ignites and burns brightly) and I took a ride in a glider. But the most dangerous thing I’ve probably ever done was a tandem sky-dive. Not completely sure what possessed me, but I did have a friend for whom sky-diving was a regular weekend activity. Hearing him speak about it had the effect of reducing the perceived risk in my mind. It began to sound like fun. It wasn’t until I was at 10,000 feet, suspended by four harness points from my trainer, feet hanging outside the plane that I thought, “Holy crap! What are you doing?” It was a brief moment of panic followed by 40 seconds of coming to grips with all the unusual sensations of free-falling. Next thing I knew, the canopy was open and there was time to feel everything and take in the great view. The landing was about the same as stepping off a curb. It was after I was on the ground that full weight of the danger I’d exposed myself to took hold. And yet, I’d clearly lived to tell the tale.
Here’s what I learned from that: I now ‘get’ extreme sports and those who do them. Following my sky-dive, my body felt different – chemically different – for like a month. The first three days, I’d catch myself grinning for no reason. The adrenaline effect was long-lasting and I could see why there are people who want that drug, who in fact become addicted to it. It explains the people all over YouTube doing things I could never imagine doing. I have no regrets about doing my sky dive, but nor do I have a compelling drive to do another. I moved on to other dangers. Two years ago, I kayaked in the Everglades, with alligators, manatees and tropical disease producing mosquitos.
A psychologist who died about 80 years ago said, “The chief danger in life is that you take too many precautions.” I think he got that right. We all have different ‘set-points’ for the line between a thrill and stupidity.
One last story…I’m reminded last summer of my first attempt at being towed by a boat on a towable float. I have some general fear of boats and water following a ride with my ex-brother-in-law that left me bruised and very frightened. But the whole floating-behind-a-boat thing looked pretty cool and I knew my friend at the helm of this boat would stop instantly at any signal of fear. I plopped awkwardly onto the float and settled myself belly-down, holding the handles, and I gave the signal that I was ready to go. Ray starts up the boat; the float line tightens and he gradually increases speed. Next thing I know, water starts pouring over the front of the float and in an instant, me and the float swamp nose-first, face planting into the lake in an assuredly ungraceful way which was fortunately not captured on video that I know of. After a brief discussion of physics and fluid dynamics with my friends, it was clear my weight was too far forward on the float. I modified my technique and had two fun rides after that. Danger survived.
I was hardly raised in bubble-wrap by over-cautious parents. We climbed trees; we squashed pennies on the railroad tracks; I’ve licked a 9V battery, ate food that fell on the floor and I walked to and from school at a pretty young age. In college, I remember dropping pieces of elemental sodium in water (it ignites and burns brightly) and I took a ride in a glider. But the most dangerous thing I’ve probably ever done was a tandem sky-dive. Not completely sure what possessed me, but I did have a friend for whom sky-diving was a regular weekend activity. Hearing him speak about it had the effect of reducing the perceived risk in my mind. It began to sound like fun. It wasn’t until I was at 10,000 feet, suspended by four harness points from my trainer, feet hanging outside the plane that I thought, “Holy crap! What are you doing?” It was a brief moment of panic followed by 40 seconds of coming to grips with all the unusual sensations of free-falling. Next thing I knew, the canopy was open and there was time to feel everything and take in the great view. The landing was about the same as stepping off a curb. It was after I was on the ground that full weight of the danger I’d exposed myself to took hold. And yet, I’d clearly lived to tell the tale.
Here’s what I learned from that: I now ‘get’ extreme sports and those who do them. Following my sky-dive, my body felt different – chemically different – for like a month. The first three days, I’d catch myself grinning for no reason. The adrenaline effect was long-lasting and I could see why there are people who want that drug, who in fact become addicted to it. It explains the people all over YouTube doing things I could never imagine doing. I have no regrets about doing my sky dive, but nor do I have a compelling drive to do another. I moved on to other dangers. Two years ago, I kayaked in the Everglades, with alligators, manatees and tropical disease producing mosquitos.
A psychologist who died about 80 years ago said, “The chief danger in life is that you take too many precautions.” I think he got that right. We all have different ‘set-points’ for the line between a thrill and stupidity.
One last story…I’m reminded last summer of my first attempt at being towed by a boat on a towable float. I have some general fear of boats and water following a ride with my ex-brother-in-law that left me bruised and very frightened. But the whole floating-behind-a-boat thing looked pretty cool and I knew my friend at the helm of this boat would stop instantly at any signal of fear. I plopped awkwardly onto the float and settled myself belly-down, holding the handles, and I gave the signal that I was ready to go. Ray starts up the boat; the float line tightens and he gradually increases speed. Next thing I know, water starts pouring over the front of the float and in an instant, me and the float swamp nose-first, face planting into the lake in an assuredly ungraceful way which was fortunately not captured on video that I know of. After a brief discussion of physics and fluid dynamics with my friends, it was clear my weight was too far forward on the float. I modified my technique and had two fun rides after that. Danger survived.