Tuesday, 10 February 2004 | Potted meat

I once saw my friend Scott jump onto the subway tracks to retrieve a Chinese fortune that he keeps in his wallet. It had slipped out of his fingers and floated down to the trough of discarded batteries, dirt, electricity, and rodents, and, without pausing, Scott hopped down and hoisted himself up again in one graceful move. He stood on the platform grinning, holding the tiny piece of paper between his thumb and index finger, as I looked at him incredulously.

I often think about that when I'm standing on the edge of the platform, the yellow warning paint under my feet. I wonder what it would take for me to leap down there; what would I have to drop? The thought process follows a strict path. I consider the items I have in my possession, and whether they would merit a dangerous rescue. The answers are always the same.

My camera? A yes to that. My cell phone? Umm...not sure. My nice umbrella? No way. It's then that I remember that I promised myself I wouldn't drop anything, because I don't want to be forced to make that kind of decision. Then I clutch whatever I'm holding with the same ferocity as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff.

Recently, a different friend, also named Scott, mentioned buying a can of Spam as part of a cheap stash of groceries. Which got me thinking: how much money would I require to eat a can of Spam in one sitting? I decided that $100 seemed like a fair price, a conclusion I later shared with Scott (who maintains that Spam tastes quite good, despite its infamous and disparaged ingredients).

I did make the connection. It did occur to me how absurd it was that eating a can of Spam could be less attractive than putting my life in gory danger. Of course, when I think of it that way, the Spam easily wins. On Sunday Scott joked, "So then, how much money would it take for you to rescue a can of Spam from the tracks?"

Today an 18-year-old girl was killed by a train when she jumped onto the subway tracks to retrieve her cell phone. My answers have changed.