Funny How Fallin' Feels Like Flyin' For A Little While

Please understand this: walking a quarter mile is in itself a chore for some, a challenge for others, and a daring feat for a few more. Walking that same quarter mile while balancing on a two-inch-wide steel cable fits squarely in that "feat" category, and when you place that cable fifteen hundred feet above the ground upon which most of us tend to do our walking. Nik Wallenda made his way across a deep gorge that was near enough to The Grand Canyon to be promoted as such, and the good news is that he made it.
Without diminishing this feat of muscle control and patience, I found myself recalling Evel Knievel. Evel (not his Christian name) was going to jump a motorcycle over the Grand Canyon. It was going to be the crowning achievement for a man who jumped a motorcycle over a great many things: fountains, buses, parked cars. He seems to have even retroactively inspired young Arthur Fonzarelli in his bid to become Milwaukee's greatest daredevil. The thing is, Evel never did jump the Grand Canyon on a motorcycle. When all was said and done, he launched himself in some sort of rocket-propelled machine that landed him somewhere near the bottom of the Snake River Canyon, in Utah, where the regulations against rocket powered leaps are considerably less stringent. It was his son, Robbie (not his Evel name), who managed to secure the rights to a little corner of the Grand Canyon owned by the Hualapai tribe, relatives to the group of Navajo who decided to let Mister Wallenda take his walk in the sky.
Then there's the dual concern about these kind of stunts. First of all, why do it? The easy answer would be "because nobody has ever done it before." If you peel that one back just a little further, you'll find "because people will pay to see it." Very little of the things that fit in the realm of "death-defying" won't show up eventually on pay-per-view. Which brings us to the other side of the equation. Who is watching this stuff? Back when Evel Knievel qualified as a part of The Wide World Of Sports, I tuned in whenever I could to see which bones he might break on his next even more extreme stunt. I wasn't the only one. Just like the NASCAR fans who go for the speed but stay for the crash, it's the reason we pay to see what we hope is a near-death experience. Driving in circles is really boring, unless there's a chance that someone might die.
That's why there was no net beneath Nik Wallenda. There was no safety harness. But there were lots of cameras. If a tree falls in a forest, it might make a sound, but if there are cameras there to capture the action, you can bet people will pay to see it.