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Ingram Publishing, ThinkStock Images
Ingram Publishing, ThinkStock Images

This Saturday night, some guy will wind up in the emergency room because it's July 4th and he couldn't resist that dare to do something stupid with some fireworks.

Course, it's really not much unlike any other Saturday night, when emergency rooms all over America are filled with rednecks who just couldn’t resist the temptation to a dare.  There’s just something about that challenge that takes us over the edge.  And it doesn’t even have to be the dreaded “double dog dare.”  It can be as simple as “I bet you can’t do it.”  We’re just slaves to our bravado.

Our pride is on the line and that usually will total disengage our mental capacity. Why?  Because nobody’s gonna think there’s anything we’re too scared or ashamed to do…and most certainly, nothing that we’d ever consider too dumb to do.  It’s usually within an hour or two of that that moment of truth when the doctor enters the room with a staple gun or cast material and a chuckle as he asks “Just how did this happen?”

While not quite at the same level of some of the more idiotic stunts of my youth, a couple years ago I succumbed to the dares of my sons.  The boys have always picked at me about my fear of rides.  I don’t do fast….or high…or spinning.  I especially don’t do high, fast AND spinning.  But not this time.  They dared me!

We were at Six Flags and I told them that I’d ride every ride they rode. Course, they couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make the old man put his pride where his mouth is, so it was “game on.”  Course it didn’t help that my wife is the female Evil Knievel and will literally do anything, so if I didn’t accept the challenge, then I’d have let a “girl” beat me.  The shame would have certainly followed me to the grave.

So, we rode the Titan, the Roaring Rapids, the Texas Giant, the Tony Hawk ride, the Aquaman, so many I can’t remember.  I hung with ‘em!  Then we came to Batman.  I gotta admit, this is where I should have bowed out, hat in hand, and stood over by the little kids too short to get on, but I had something to prove.  I’m “DAD MAN!” I fear nothing.  Chuck Norris is afraid of me.

So I climbed aboard.  To make a long story short, this was a grave error.  My lack of better sense ended up on the ground next to my lunch from the third grade.  Alongside it were my eyeballs, lungs, toenails and every bit of dignity I had managed to muster.  Course the boys are still laughing about it today, but that day was definitely over.  It’s really bad when old men on walkers actually pass you while you’re trying to stagger to the car, white as a ghost and looking like you’re on the backside of a tequila drunk.

I guess the moral to this story is simple.  Guys, is “No I don’t think I’ll take that dare,” really such a bad answer?  It sure saves on the Pepto treatment and you won't always have to worry about the cleanliness of your underwear.

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