Jump dummy jump

We all have our fears. Some folks fear dying and others fear snakes and spiders. I even know a girls that gets so wigged out over clowns she'll freak out and pee her pants at a circus. For me, I have a bad case of Ritchie Valens disease. Flying just scares the crap out of me. I pretty much won't get on one if I'm stone sober.
Been that way all my life. I'd much rather drive 11 hours than fly two. When my daughter was young we flew out to Texas to visit my mom. My daughter was less than a year at the time and pooped her pants about halfway into the flight home. Have you ever tried changing a diaper at 36,000 feet in a bathroom built for skinny midgets?
Nevertheless I'm all about overcoming obstacles. I figure the best way for me to get of my fear of flying in airplanes is to jump out of one. Yep, skydiving. Soon I plan on taking some classes, strapping on a parachute and jumping out of a plane. I have no rational reason for this. I know, like my infant daughter at the time, I'll crap my pants.
I've done my research and very few people die from skydiving. There are three things involved with skydiving: Jumping, opening the chute and landing. Once I get out of the plane I will for damn sure open the chute, and Newton's Law of gravity means I'll land in some matter, but the actually jumping out part is the kicker. Meatloaf might have to think twice about saying two out of three ain't bad.
I've ridden bulls. I've been in barroom fights. I've even spent the evening at a place called the Bloody Bucket. Despite some mashing of teeth I've always walked away. As long as the chute opens I'll walk away from this one too. Although I make have to walk straight to the bathroom and change my underwear.