Proof you are never to old to be stupid

You want me to what? Surely you didn’t say what I thought you said. “Ride a bull?” I’m in Mike Carter’s office and I can’t believe my ears. It’s not that I shy away from adrenaline filled activities. I love racing, rock climbing and skydiving. I even used to hang around high places when I climbed radio towers for a living. And I had entertained the thought of riding a bull but after I hit 35 it just didn’t seem like the wisest thing I could do. So here I am: 43 years old and in the worse shape of my entire life. Carter gets a wild hair up his butt and all of a sudden it’s a “good idea” to put three DJ’s on bulls and turn them out all at the same time? Yea, and we’ll call it the “Disaster in the Pasture.” That's the ticket and then we’ll make it a fundraiser for Camp Millennium. Woaaa, hold on pardner. The whole conversation was ridiculous until Camp Millennium came up. I could protest and poke holes in the idea all day long until Carter threw in the Camp Millennium card. But then, I used to race motocross. How bad could it be? Friend, if you hear yourself utter those words either rethink your strategy or have your head examined.

Days go by and I didn’t really think much about my date with destiny. Oh, by the way, I out found that destiny had a name: “Bearcat.” I find it’s easy to put things of a dangerous nature out of your mind. Well at least until you are climbing on the back of Bearcat. My hand is now cinched tight. I am connected to this bull. Pictures of hang ups and bull disasters are racing through my mind. Is my insurance up to date? Damn, I didn’t check my insurance. Maybe it’s not to late to… holy crap the gate just opened and we explode out of the gate. I sure wished I had checked on that insurance. By this time the world is a blur. Then the impact. Pow! At least I think it was a pow. Maybe more of a bam. No, I’m going with pow. Now a note to self: “be sure to check on the underwear.” I’ve got a bad feeling about this one. But I am alive. With help I’m up and relatively unscathed. No, hold it. That pain wasn’t there before. Well at least I’m on two feet and hopefully an ER visit won’t be necessary.
I look around to see Ashley is up and ok and that’s great news. The question is where is Carter? Oh crap, he’s still riding! By now we are way past the horn and he’s still riding. What is he the freakin’ Energizer Bunny? “Carter the bulls tired, get off of him” I can hear myself say. And then the dismount: Not exactly a ten. As bad as I feel for thinking it, there was a small victory for me as I saw Mike on his way to a date with Mother Earth. Pow! Now I realize it was more like a thud. A 42 year old, out of shape sack of potatoes type of thud.

Monday morning rolled around and it was apparent that it was going to take a few more days before we could all walk upright. In fact at this point a single girl scout with an attitude could have taken lunch money from all of us. But we survived. We rode a bull…cool. Even cooler yet, we survived. Over seventeen hundred dollars for Camp Millennium, Priceless!