Maybe Men

You don’t want a “Yes Man.” Not when you’re clinging onto a crooked branch along the banks of a rushing river, preparing your loose footing for a great leap forward. There are a few reachable dry stones, but their contours indicate a slippery surface that may put you directly into the rapids. Where, among the belligerent beavers and the spawning salmon, you’ll be soaked beyond comprehension, headed straight for the falls and certain death. “Yes Men” don’t weigh the pros and cons of any given situation. They’re not discerning enough to notice coastal erosion or ask if your pockets contain non-waterproof electronics. They sense what side you’re on and go with that. They know how much you’ve wanted to jump across a river since childhood (even if this particular tributary is more of a boring brook). They realize how Carl Lewis’s exploits at the 1996 Olympic Games influenced you immeasurably. The idea that some athletes get to jump for a living. But the stakes couldn’t be lower there, over the safe, cool sand box, adored by children and animals. How about jumping across something where the risk is enormous? “Yes Men” know all that. It’s why they are there to give you what you want. Or what you think you want. But they aren’t the ones who better be in shape. They can walk along the river in dress shoes totally carefree.

But you don’t want a “No Man” either. Not when you’re seriously considering risking life and limb on the guarantee that the tree limb you chose is up to snuff. Not when a successful display could lead to an agricultural revolution. Not when instead of questioning your agility, this dope should be repositioning their camera phone for optimal virality. One way or another, this video is going to change your life. Not to mention the lives of all the creatures who might follow your lead. You don’t need another obstacle. There’s already a surplus of those. 

What you want is a “Maybe Man.” Definitely. Someone who wants to hedge. A person who can’t quite decide what to say and would prefer leaving this exhibition to you and you alone. What are you going to do on the other side of the river? Jump back or take a long march home? And isn’t there a bridge a few hundred yards away? One of those quaint covered types, with the large planks and a historical plaque regaling every crosser with the region’s local lore? 

Maybe.