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PC Line Dancing (nsfw)

Blue Skies Magazine i10: May 2010 | blueskiesmag.com
PC Line Dancing by the Fuckin' PIlot | Blue Skies Mag i10: May 2010
Written by The Fuckin' Pilot
[icon_box title=”Online Reprint” icon=”basic-anticlockwise” icon_position=”left” icon_style=”normal” icon_color=”#0077bf” icon_bg_color=”#ffffff”] Originally printed in issue #10 (May 2010) of Blue Skies Magazine.
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Blue Skies Magazine i10: May 2010 | blueskiesmag.com

PC Line Dancing by the Fuckin’ PIlot | Blue Skies Mag i10: May 2010

Drop zones the world over have a much different idea of what is and is not politically correct. The only problem with our “relaxed” idea of appropriate is that the real world comes out to visit us all the time. Are we going a bit too far when John and Jane Q. Public come out to visit?

“So I’m fuckin’ this guy in the ass the other night, and he gets a goddamn hard-on!” So I say, “Get the fuck outta here, you fag!”

It’s quite possibly my favorite gay joke ever, and more than likely one of the most inappropriate out there. Even more so when you consider the last time I told it, I was a tandem instructor at a Bay Area DZ, onboard a jump plane that just happened to have a gay couple doing their first jumps … one of them with me. These two poor guys didn’t know that I’d made a Cross Keys film festival winner video of me running all around New Jersey in drag, or that I’ve been known to fly jumpers in a skirt. They only knew that I appeared to be a gay-bashing bastard with one of their lives in my hands. In retrospect, the only thing I’d change is when I told the joke.

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The truth is, the general public already thinks we’re nuts. On one hand, I truly believe they assume when they come out to our drop zones to make a skydive, they will meet some interesting characters, see some crazy stunts and meet people of a drastically different mindset than they have. I don’t, on the other hand, believe that they are prepared for tittie-flashing for extra altitude, massive strings of profanity during most, if not every, conversation, and the occasional party night zombie still completely bent on whatever chemical entertainment may have been prevalent the previous evening.

Am I trying to say that titties should be kept to themselves? FUCK NO! As a jump pilot at a relatively relaxed DZ, I am of the fervent opinion that there are simply not enough titties out there! Am I saying that bad jokes and foul language should be kept at bay? FUCK NO! I believe the more politically incorrect a joke is, or the more foul the language is, the more I will enjoy hearing and/or using it.

What I am trying to say is that it’s all about the timing. Like I said before, I wouldn’t change the fact that the gay couple in the plane heard me tell that joke—I would have just rather they heard it after we’d taken them on their skydives. They were adults in a grown-up world, but they were at a grand disadvantage because I was taking one of them on a skydive. They didn’t have the ability to react as they normally would, because the instructors were gonna save their asses—and we were all laughing! They had to sit, laugh and pretend to think I was hilarious. If I’d told it on the ground, they would have had the ability to either laugh, walk out of the room or cat scratch me if they didn’t like it.

And it’s not just about the language and shit; the same goes for those loading area conversations we’ve all had. You know, the ones about so and so that went in doing something stupid, or that last nasty malfunction we had to deal with. These poor people don’t know our sport, don’t know the real deal about fatalities or malfunctions, and don’t realize that most of us have a very unusual sense of humor when it comes to injury and death. And God forbid some parents who brought their 18-year-old kid out for a birthday tandem hear about the student tib/fib the day before.

On the flip side of the coin—they have walked into our world now, haven’t they? I remember one evening after a long day of jumping, standing around in a circle telling big fish stories with all the players of the day. All of us were quite vocal as usual and most of us, especially me, were just as foul-mouthed as ever. In the middle of a “fucking” this, and “fucking” that story I was telling, a jumper standing next to me tapped me on the shoulder to point out a mom and dad standing quite close with their 5- or 6-year-old in tow. I turned and looked, made eye contact with both parents, and said as much to them as to the group, “Fuck ‘em, the kid’s gotta learn sometime doesn’t he?”

I wouldn’t change the behavior of any skydiver, if truth be told. If anything, I’d loosen up a few I know. I’d just go about making sure that we behave like skydivers around skydivers, and when we’re surrounded by tandems and family members rooting on students that have yet to jump, we allow them to enjoy the experience for what it is, without them having to filter out the dick jokes, dead skydivers, and yes, even the tities… If, on the other hand, they decide to hang out at the Tiki bar with us after the sunset load, fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke!


[team_member image_url=”123875" name=”Dean Ricci” role=”Monthly Columnist”]About the author: Dean “Princess” Ricci has more than 8,500 hours of flight time; 5,000 of those have been piloting jump ships for skydiving.[/[/team_member]p[products_mixed layout=”listing” orderby=”ID” order=”asc” ids=”26630,121868" title=”Get more like this!”]div class="sharedaddy sd-sharing-enabled">

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