Your whuffo friends only call if the weather man says the weekend will be shitty.
Your friends look at the sky and say, "look at all those clouds", and you say, "look at all those holes!".
You wake up in the morning feeling like death warmed over, after having a few too many beers the night before, and your solution to this consists of riding in an extremely loud vehicle for about twenty minutes, throwing yourself out the door and NOT! killing yourself.
You can't think of a better way to relax other than falling 10,000 feet.
You fill out your packing data card in braille and try to convince the drop zone owner it's legal.
You consider sleeping in a slanted plane as comfortable.
You see an incredibly beautiful woman and you think, "hmm, I wonder if I can talk her into......skydiving!".
Your girlfriend holds out her left hand and says the word diamond. You picture a fourway formation, look at your girlfriends hand realize the diamond she's talking about is going to cost over 200 jumps, and then, with a smile, picture your girlfriends suitcases on the porch.
Your friend says "let's go to the beach", and you grab your rig.
You try to convince the flight attendant on a commercial flight that you really! would be much more comfortable sitting on the floor.
Your friends think it's funny to, when you are sleeping, blow a fan in your face and set a beeper off near your ear.
When someone asks you where you're from, you reply with the name of your dz, not your hometown.
YOU KNOW YOU'RE AN OLD-TIME SKYDIVER WHEN:
You think PC stands for ParaCommander.
You still call them AOD's
You know the rules for SCS and SCR.
You HAVE and SCS AND and SCR #.
You call it "Freak Flying" instead of "Sit Fly" and can do it without a special jump suit.'
You still call it the "Freak Brothers" convention.
You remember when safety meetings weren't.
You can't tell the difference between BOC and a "pull out" except you don't get to pull your own pin.
You remember when turf surfing was something students did, not hot dogs.
You think Pink is a stupid gear color for guys.
You KNOW what else to do on a weekend.
You think they are ALL "fun" jumps.
You think a collapsable pilot chute is something bad.
You think diapers go on mains.
You don't call a jump from 9,500 a "cloud base" jump.
When "pro" packing is something your rigger does.
When paying someone to pack your main is a waste of perfectly good jumping money
When you lament the loss of the need to "stand tension" cause it gave your girl friend something to do.
You know who Lew Sanborn is and can spell his first name.
You still call them ASOs.
You know what a "jesus string" is.
You remember when you actually wanted to buy a Paraflite main.
You catch yourself using the term "snoot" every once in a while.
Camera suits were used for RW.
Waivers were on a 3"x5" index card...along with the rest of your info.
Competition judges actually had to stand outside.
You remember when a 5-cell canopy was the cat's meow.
You can remember when $7.00 to 12,000 ft was highway robbery.
You remember deliberately doing hook turns downwind into the ground to stomp a disk.
You remember why the pea gravel pit was invented.
You remember swearing never to remove *any* padding off of a harness.