By no means would I consider myself to be anything close to what anyone might call a dangerously adventuresome person but I have ridden motorcycles (street and dirt), bungee jumped, earned my SCUBA certification, flown around the country on both private and commercial jets, walked the streets of NYC alone at night, etc.; so I’ve done my share of mildly adventurous things so far in life.

Today’s terribly unfortunate incident in Texas brings to mind one thing that I will NEVER do under my own free will: take a hot air balloon ride.

The romantic idea of gently rising up toward the clouds while quietly humming “Up, up and away…my beautiful balloon” is easily trumped by the reality of being possibly forced into making a quick decision between being burned alive in a wicker basket or jumping out, consciously falling, then hitting the ground and exploding like a hefty bag full of Manhattan clam chowder.

I’m just too indecisive to make that kind of quick decision.