Mock Worthy Moment #2

Phobia
n. : a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it. Failure to avoid can lead to mock-worthy moments.

me + heights = panic
I don't like heights. Actually, I should clarify. I don't like unsecured heights. What does that mean? Ladders, trees, cliffs edges, and the like much above 6 feet or so are not my idea of a good time. It's not the climbing that scares me; it's the getting down. Or the fear of falling. That's probably more accurate: fear of falling--hard. Me and my lonesome, awful balance responsible for keeping myself from getting seriously injured...or killed.

Now, I love love love rollercoasters (the harrier the better - nothing, absolutely nothing, has beat the thrill of "X" at Magic Mountain), cliff jumping, and even rock climbing, if I trust my climbing partner. Why? Because the getting down in all those activities is all fairly secured and absolutely thrilling. Getting out of trees? Nothing glamorous or fun about that. Falling off a cliff onto jagged rocks below? No thanks. Slipping on a ladder rung and eating every step on the way down? Um, no. Falling out of the attic onto the new hallway floor? I'll pass, thanks. So when, at our family reunion in 2000, it was suggested we take a "Family Tree" photo in a large tree at Presidio Park, I was less than thrilled. The idea was to put Mom and Dad at the base of the tree and have all the kids sitting on a branch. Cute, huh? Yeah. Right. Everyone thought it was a great idea and jumped in the tree right away.
I was astonished at the recklessness with which Stephen propelled himself into the arms of David and James. Throughout my childhood, I had often wished for the physical confidence of my brothers. I don't mind having my body hurt in some ways, but blunt force trauma has always been something I've avoided (please see "Mock Worthy Moment #1" for more details). As I watched the combined family effort to get Stephen onto his branch, I saw myself attempting the same feat and falling out of the tree onto the exposed roots below. The boys (and even Karen) didn't seemed to be phased by any of it; they were all laughing and having a great time. I was even laughing, but that was because I was safely on the ground, laughing at Dad finally propelling Stephen into the tree via his backside. I wanted to be having fun in the tree, too, but I knew that just wasn't going to happen. I stood below and off to the side, looking for the lowest branch, preferably something three or four feet off the ground. No luck. The best I could do was one about two feet overhead. I did my best to put on a happy face.

Once I got into this position, I actually had no intention of actually righting myself on this branch. I'm laughing here because I thought I could get away with staying right there in that position for the picture. But no, I was to be IN the tree for the photo. Everyone was waiting. As I considered my position, I just couldn't believe what I was seeing: Bruce was perched in the tree, so calm, crouched down on his two feet, balancing on his branch; other brothers were switching places 10 feet above the ground like it was no big deal. And then there was me. James could see the panic in my eyes as Dad attempted to push me up and over the branch as he had done with Stephen. James reached out his hand, trying to gently coax me up, but I wouldn't budge. I was in the tree but I was definitely not having fun. The exposed roots seemed to be taunting me from below.

James promised he would not let me fall; all I had to do was give him one hand and he could get me up in the tree. It took a while for me to believe this, but then I considered all the years we had been swing dancing together and remembered that he had never once dropped me, and we had done some ridiculous things. So, I eventually let go with one arm--reluctantly--and gave him my hand. However, I had failed to release my death grip on the tree with my other arm.

"Let go, Julie!" Everyone was getting restless. James pulled so hard I had no choice but to let go and try to help, but I was useless. He had to pull up my shaking, reluctant, dead weight with two hands.

I was finally righted up on the branch. The protestations ceased; they were no longer needed--they had gone unheeded, and I was all the way up in the tree. What followed? Are you ready? Now, to James' credit, he never once mocked me for this moment. In fact, not one member of my family did. I, however, cannot look at this picture without laughing outloud.

This, my friends, is what we call pure, unadulterated panic, Julie-style.

Below is the picture they were going for (minus the parents - I couldn't find the real picture). Notice how James got me to smile even? It's because he's got me pinned between his right leg and left arm. Say it with me, friends: secured heights.

Needless to say, this family picture was not recreated during the 2006 family reunion.