Just kidding. I'm active, healthy, interested, adventurous, faithful, honest, well-read, love to travel and I crave exotic cultures and languages. Give me a fast boat ride to a deep reef, a bevy of hungry sharks swimming around me, a hot gun barrel on a firing range, passing a bottle of Makers Mark with my buddies around a camp fire. I like a steamy jungle trail, Mayan pyramids, wild mountain rides in a rickety bus in some Third World country. You can take your trips to Sweden or Switzerland. I'd prefer Spain, Portugal, Greece or Italy. The Orient, Central America, Mexico capture my interest. I crave hot weather, hotter women and clear water. I'll take a sailboat ride with a reefed mainsail on a windy day in a friend's boat or a ride with the local constabulary early on a Sunday morning chasing dopers and thieves. I've leapt out of a couple of perfectly good airplanes, been 150 feet deep in the kelp forests off Catalina Island, waved like a flag gripping a rock in a stiff current 60 feet below the surface of the Pacific Ocean on Midrange in the Coronados off the west coast of Baja. I've buzzed radio towers flying a Piper J-3, chased sharks on the reefs in the Caribbean, dodged wild peccaries in the jungles of the Yucatan and encountered a 15-foot python in the mountains of southern Luzon. And I love watching the sun go down over the water at Mallory Square in Key West with an expensive, hand-rolled cigar in my mouth that I bought on Duvall Street earlier in the day.
Of course, that's not my every day life. But those are some of the things I've done. And that's the truth.