Having been cornered in a tunnel which dumps out onto the face of a dam, the good doctor makes a life or death decision to avoid capture. And as the task force commander looks on, Kimble jumps, and tumbles down a 100 foot concrete slide, and slams into river, below.
You can imagine how surprised “Deputy Gerard” is. For as his partner reaches him, the chief deputy exclaims,
“The guy did a Peter Pan. Right off of this dam. Right here.”
Well, my friends, as I previously inferred, this was the first time I’d heard that term used in any other manner, except the title of a movie, (and its major character).
However…
I can tell you a couple of decades later, I experienced a so-called “Peter Pan.” As a matter of fact, a total of (drum roll) five (count em’ 5) Peter Pans!
It might help you to know that a few years ago, I began a 10 mile early morning bicycle trek. And unwilling to peddle in the bike lane of my local four lane highway, for fear I might get plowed under by oncoming traffic, I chose the sidewalk.
Pt. 2
Following are the accounts of my first and final mishaps, (i.e. Peter Pans).
I had no sooner begun my biking regimen, perhaps the first week out, that I suffered my first fall.
At that time, I was biking near dusk, and had turned off the sidewalk onto one of only two streets leading back into my little development, when a non-descript terrier darted out of a driveway to my left, and, as a result, I chose a course of action which I would soon regret.
As the animal gained momentum, I (literally) “put the pedal to the metal” and attempted to do with two feet what the little beast was doing with four. “Never try this at home” (or anywhere else) my friends. For as fast as I my big feet “did the 360’s,” the faster the little pit bull’s legs replicated my efforts.
Suddenly, after about a hundred feet, “Rover” dashed slightly ahead of my two-wheeled conveyance, and in a blink, I hatched my ignoble plan. I aimed the front wheel of my bicycle towards the mid-section of the sorry critter, and slammed rudely into his leeward side.
Dear readers, had I been given the grace of a couple more seconds, I think I might have summoned up an old high school lecture regarding Newton’s Third Law of Physics, and spared myself the trouble; (since at this point, there was nothing any longer anything theoretical about it).
Suddenly, the clockwise centrifuge which was my front tire connected with his (or her) unyielding hide.
Did I mention Newton’s Third Law? (I thought I did).
It was about this time that I found myself serving as my own personal guinea pig for what, ‘til then, had been little more than a Harrison Ford mannequin sliding down the face of a dam.
Pt. 3
Peter Pan? (It seemed more like Superman to me). I was momentarily exempted from the Law of Gravity, as I flew over the handlebars of my bike, but in the end, I found myself all too subject to the foresaid law.
Dear readers, while the flight was nothing less than ecstatic, the landing was nothing less than the lack thereof. I slammed into the unforgiving pavement in a heap, and the starboard side of my body crumpled under my own weight.
Funny, at this point I lost all consciousness of, or concern for the dog, and to this day I have no idea whether he (or she) sustained a fatal injury. I can be sure, however, that he (or she) was, at this point, nowhere to be seen. And thus, I can only surmise that he (or she) found his (or her) way back home to nurse his (or her) wounds.
Speaking of nursing one’s wounds, when I got up… Well, my friends, I didn’t get up. At least not “by my own lonely,” since before you could say, “Peter Pan” I found myself surrounded by several people. One being a young lady in her mid-teens who claimed to have sometimes fed the dog, but disavowed having owned the crazy critter; which just happened to have used her driveway as a starting line for his (or her) mad chase.
To be fair, however, “Alice” was sympathetic to the misfortune which her canine ward has visited upon me, (of which I was 50 percent responsible) and said the kind of things people say when there isn’t all that much to say.
And I knew. I just knew. I had broken my left arm. Using my spare, however, I pulled my cell phone out of my back pocket. Calling my wife, I made her aware of my ecstatic flight and painful landing. However, about the time she reached me, a neighbor pulled up in his F-150, and offered to chauffeur my bike (and me) the couple hundred yards which separated me from the relative safety and comfort of my own home.
I don’t think I will ever see either of those two movies again, (nor even see their titles in print) that I won’t recall my own singular experience with the term, i.e., Peter Pan.
(However, it goes without saying, Harrison Ford had his own inanimate stand-in, and, unlike me,… never felt a thing).
William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary, Vol. 63. Copyright Pending.
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