An epidemic of window jumping afflicts the Athens of America. Ninety-six inches of snow can have that effect on a teenager on February vacation.
The dare-devil craze of leaping off roofs, porches, and other elevated perches onto mounds of cold white fluff comes not from suicidal despair but from a wintertime joy de vivre. Regardless, the mayor of the city that arrested H.L. Mencken for selling a copy of The American Mercury containing a story about a prostitute scolds the unparachuted jumpers.
“It’s a foolish thing to do and you could kill yourself,” Mayor Marty Walsh said at a Monday news conference. “So, I’m asking people to stop their nonsense right now. These are adults jumping out windows.”
You could catch a cold, too, should you make the leap of faith sans scarf.
It could be worse. Young people could be mushing buses on Tremont Street, pelting cars with snowballs on the Mass Pike, or double-dog daring impressionable friends to press their tongues upon the Beacon Hill statue of Mary Dyer (a victim, like the snow jumpers, of Beantown’s intolerance).
And it’s not as though the approved winter sports preferred by Back Bay Brahmins who can afford a lift ticket carry no risk. More than three dozen Americans die on the slopes every season. Not a single Bostonian has yet perished in the mushy mound.
But this isn’t for lack of effort.
Reckless dudes be like #BostonBlizzardChallenge A video posted by Zepeda’s Official IG (@zepeda116) on
Count Hizzoner among the unimpressed.
“This isn’t Loon Mountain,” the mayor informed. “This is the city of Boston, where we’re trying to remove snow off of the street and it becomes very dangerous. And the last thing we want to do is respond to an emergency call where somebody jumped out of the window because they thought it was a funny thing to do.”
Cotton Mather. Henry Chase. Marty Walsh. Killjoys all.
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