There are three dining venues in the continuing care retirement community where I live: the Pub, the Courtyard, and the Marketplace. Susie and I eat each evening in the pub and when we can, we sit at the bar where there are four places. Quite often, we are joined at the bar by another old guy named Jim. Jim is a retired Army general who taught for many years at West Point. All three of us turn 90 this year – Susie in a few days, Jim in March, I in December. Yesterday evening, Jim remarked that when he had his 90th birthday, he planned to celebrate it by going to Fort Bragg and jumping out of an airplane, accompanied by members of the Golden Eagles, the Army’s elite parachute team. I have to admit, I was impressed.
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Under the plans of the current Secretary of Defense to rename all military installations that have carried the names of Confederate officers, Fort Bragg is in the process of being renamed, or perhaps has already been renamed (I'm not sure offhand what the new name is).
I would assume that at 90 it would be a tandem jump unless he had recently jumped solo. Only broken bone for me (so far, at least!) came from a jump.
yes I assume so too. But even so ...
GHWBush did this on his 90th.
Was it like this picture?
https://larspsyll.wordpress.com/2019/01/10/parachutes-do-not-reduce-death-when-jumping-from-aircraft/
Sounds like something a general, or GHWBush, would come up with. Masters of the universe. If I get that far - and I haven't given this much thought - maybe I would like to finger paint with a group of 5 year olds and tap into that long gone child-like sense of wonder. Or sit somewhere and watch the butterflies. I did the parachute jump almost half a century ago to prove something. Hurt my tail bone. Meh.
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