Somewhere out there, there must be a group called the Future Quads of America.
The FQA must be a brotherhood of aspiring quads who find paralysis to be romantic and so they do stupid reckless things in the hope of hastening the day when they permanently injure their spinal cords. They don’t have a death wish. They have a quad wish.
I see them out on the streets all the time. There were several of them in action the night of the recent Stanley Cup celebration in Chicago. There was a young woman whooping and hoisting a beer high while sitting on the roof of a moving car. Another reveler popped squealing wheelies on his motorcycle.
I see the FQA in action almost every night on the television news. They’re doing stupid reckless things that are bound to render them quads, such as trying to set a new world record for the tallest human pyramid or holding pro-democracy rallies in Tehran. The FQA are constantly in action on the sports channels. I see rodeo cowboys riding enraged bulls. I see NASCAR.