In addition to using mine as a tool of last resort for picking my nose, I have also used my thumb to save me money, to meet some weird and wonderful people, and to travel from A to B. The latter uses are all wrapped up in my distant past when I used to hitchhike and these memories have encouraged me, many years later, to question whether our distinct lack of appetite for contemporary risk has robbed us of a forgotten piece of our cultural heritage? I am a great advocate of personal safety but then not everyone out there wants to cause us harm, yet I acknowledge that it only takes one psychopath to extinguish our most vital possession. An internet search will undoubtedly cause a chill to shoot up your spine with the Santa Rosa (California) hitchhiker murders between February 4th 1972 and December 22nd 1973 providing a grisly example. In an attempt to provide a sobering counterbalance, there are numerous other ways to die that are significantly more likely. As a retired connoisseur of this mode of social transport, I did it regularly and thankfully never met a crazed ax murderer, or at least if I did, they must have had a day off.
For your entertainment, I will regale you with my antics with the primary intention of making you chuckle. However, I contend that the more we have been exposed to information when arguably assessing risk should be that much easier to do, the further it has perversely robbed us of a spirit of adventure that has made many dismissive of anything that carries any degree of anxiety. I will leave that decision for you to make at the end of this rose-colored spectacles journey that began in 1979 on the outskirts of Brackley, due east of Banbury and north of Bicester.
This story is from the May 2022 edition of FHM Australia.
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This story is from the May 2022 edition of FHM Australia.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
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