Risk Isn't Just A Board Game

     “We’re going for a walk,” I said to the doormen as I lead Patrick out of the crusty, grungy, bug-infested, compound into the crusty, grungy, bug-infested, street. Left, left, over a highway via a graffiti covered bridge, and then we got to the Burger King. As hungry as we were walking into this third world purveyor of fake beef, there was no chance that we were going to sate our appetites in this attempt of an establishment. Ladies of the night populated the booths, tables, and most importantly, the bathrooms as we ordered our imitation food and waited for half an hour for the meal that we inevitably threw away. We walked back to the compound through the Puerto Rican night with high spirits; giddy with awkwardness.
     There is an art to risk-taking, one that some people are naturally gifted at and others never quite master. Like art on a canvas, risk-taking is displayed differently by different “artists” based on their personal stories, goals, and boundaries. People can be categorized as no-risk, low-risk, moderate-risk, or high-risk. No-risk people tend to be the ones who aren’t even in situations to have to try to self-preserve because they are too busy being comfortable in their daily routines and never even put their toes near the line. This is different than low-risk individuals because they at least attempt spontaneity but the urge to “survive” is so high that they very rarely find themselves in dire-straits. Most people worth talking too are moderate risk-takers. They push the boundaries, force discussion and thought, all while “staying alive.” They see the value in a good story and have no problem getting a little dirty. The same people who say “YOLO” non-sarcastically tend to be high risk-takers. Self-preservation is a joke not an instinct as they jump off of buildings, have torrid love affairs, and die before ever truly growing up.
     I consider myself to be a moderate risk-taker. I love to do things for the joke, the vine, or the story; as long as I am reasonably sure that I will survive the punchline. I am one of the first people to blast loud funny music as I wobble back and forth well within the fog line and median but one of the last people to race in a residential area. Some of my friends on the other hand could be considered both low and high risk-takers. Johnnie Stupek is a low risk-taker; making calculated decisions that not only look responsible but actually are responsible. He pursues debate, his girlfriend Miriam, and very little else. At the other end of the spectrum I would place Patrick Helmke; my partner in crime from above. It doesn’t matter if there is any physical gain coming from a situation, if he thinks it will be funny he will do it. These opposing lifestyles occasionally cross but it is far more likely that they don’t.
     Risk isn’t just a board game, it’s a key part of life. Not everyone can be a Navy SEAL, a promiscuous partier, or a police officer just like not everyone can be an accountant, an author, or an ordinary person. Life is for everyone but truly living isn’t for the faint of heart, even a low risk-taker takes risks each and every day. They are unavoidable. If you aren’t a risk-taker you aren’t a person.  Waking up in the morning, falling asleep at night, breathing, all of those things are inherent risks associated with living because the very action of being alive risks dying. Just like how driving, eating, flying, and even the act of standing have potential risks. These risks are generally ignored by the benefits of being able to do any of those things. Now, armed thus with the knowledge that risk is a part of life, go and live.