Let’s make one thing straight; riding in helicopters is by far the coolest form of transportation. You know who rides in helicopters? The President of the United States rides in helicopters. European soccer players probably ride in helicopters. James Bond film villains ride in helicopters. This is just a small list of the lucky people who get the chance to quote the Governator and yell something about getting back to a chopper.
I’ve begun to weigh my options, and it seems there are only two ways this will happen. Option one: get rich! To follow through this option I will first have to either further my education, leading to years of paying off loans, while simultaneously working my up the corporate ladder, or else find some under the table, nitty gritty, get-rich-quick jobs.
The former will see me flying through the sky in 20-50 years, while the ladder will either see me doing the same within this year, or else in 20-50 years (depending on the nature of work, and how long I’m put behind bars). This is unacceptable.
The other option, though, seems even worse. Get some solid insurance, and get hurt in a remote area to take flight for life. Even while typing this, my conscience and fear of making jokes about unfunny subjects, is making me cringe. Option two seems pretty terrible.
Whether it takes a lifetime, or I get lucky and meet a really rich and famous friend, my life will be a failure if it ends without me soaring through the skies in a chopper. This will be marked of the bucket list in due time.