And this can only kill me once?
My Dear Mr. Gifford,
I regret that I shall not be able to join your upcoming mass parachute jump over Mount Everest, though it sounds exciting to hurtle past the 29,000-foot peak and land on a drop zone at 12,000 feet. I’m afraid my parachute is at the dry cleaners.
You have been quoted as saying this feat “has never been done before.” Actually, I believe there may be good reasons for that.
Also, I do not want to join the group that holds trampolines to catch unlucky jumpers whose chutes don’t open. I have seen numerous Daffy Duck cartoons, and those things do not work so well.
As an animal lover, though, I do applaud your efforts to supply the vultures with plenty of fresh meat for the cold weather ahead.
Don’t forget to wave.
Bob
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Nigel Gifford organizer of the skydiving team, demonstrates the use of an oxygen mask on one of his diving members in Kathmandu, September 23, 2008. REUTERS/Gopal Chitrakar
REUTERS Everest shot by David Gray


























































