One of the front page stories in the news today is about the 11 climbers who were killed by an avalanche on K2 in Pakistan. This may seem a tad cold, but I say "So what"?
I do not take pleasure in the news of any one's death*, but there is a difference between people who are victims of circumstances (disease, wars, violence) and those who risk their lives for thrills.
Of the 11 who died, I do have the most compassion for the two Nepalese who were undoubtedly Sherpa guides and actually working for a living, probably lugging the champagne glasses and photographic equipment.
It is difficult to pretend that it is a tragedy when people who get their kicks from betting against gravity happen to lose the bet. These were self absorbed people who spent their time and inherited money spreading maps on the mahogany decks of their yachts, frivolously preparing to climb mountains. Leaving families and friends because of the spiritual fulfillment one gets getting to the top. By the way, all of the dead had actually made it to the top - they died during the descent.
You may think that I am bitterly envious of those beautiful, rich people who are still alive and can afford to climb mountains and take boat trips to tax free shelters in the Caribbean - instead of being a boat less, overweight pensioner who spends his time chasing rabbits, moles and squirrels away from his garden and surfing the Internets in hopes of finding a cure for chronic NRI (Nagging Rectal Itch).
OK, Guilty as charged. I am capable of being just as useless as the next guy - maybe even useless-er. Just because my current path is to tread upon on those pesky molehills doesn't mean I couldn't be a rich thrill-seeker too if I could afford it. Gravity shmavity! is my motto.
Being at sea level gives one a perspective that mountain climbers do not see. Our horizon is limited by line of sight. But if our safety rope breaks, the fall is generally not fatal.
*Exception: Whoever invented the leaf blower - The noisiest, most annoying contraption on the planet.
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