Final measurements are in. I cannot dunk a basketball. I cannot dunk a golf ball. If we could measure such things, I might, at most, be able to dunk an atom.
I can touch the rim. That's 120 inches up, minus my 90 inches of reach, for a vertical leap of 30 inches. Looking back, we started with a vertical of 27 inches. I was hoping to increase that by 9.5. No dice. On the upside, I can now out jump the fattest linemen in the NFL draft (who sport a mere 28.5 inches).
To measure, I jumped at a series of tape strips on a wall outside. Over and over. At some point my neighbor came out and said, 'If you need a ladder you should just ask'. I told her I was measuring my vertical leap. She asked 'why in the hell' I would want to do that?
I started to tell her that I was afraid of becoming old and useless and feared having children would forever render me another average, boring, anonymous suburbanite, and if I was going to be all those things then I at least wanted to wait in the SUV gridlock outside my kids' pre-school and know that I, if the situation called for it, could jump over something up to 30 inches tall.
Instead, I gave the answer I always give when someone asks me about one of my more idiotic actions.
'It's for a class.'