An adolescent learns to compromise and share in order not to be pushed over the edge by another adolescent. Unfortunately, however, I know a few people who survived adolescence without learning to compromise and share.

When teenagers are defying parental authority to find independence, I think it's luck that keeps them from falling over the edge. That's the age when we don't know the difference between daring and dumb.

Getting married at twenty was successfully dumb; but when John was stationed at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri and I was living in a trailer park, I was about as far away from living on the edge as you can get. I was busy trying to live on a budget.

Then came motherhood. Somehow amid diaper changes and bottle warmings I found time to develop a fear of heights. I wouldn't get near the edge of anything.

Not so with my sons. They rode their bikes off the porch. They climbed on the roof to get their Frisbees. My older son held his younger brother by his ankles over the stairwell. They were living on the edge - of my nerves. When they have teenagers, they'll understand why their allowance paid to dye my graying hair.

As grown-ups our lifestyles change. Some of us seek thrills by parachute jumping or wind gliding, by sky diving or deep sea diving. Not me. Even though those air and water sports don't have edges, I think they're over the edge.

I think casinos are down-to-earth ways for people to live dangerously with their money, to risk it trying to get rich quick. I've learned I'm not a good loser, but I don't think casinos should have ATM machines unless they have clocks. People should have a chance to see there's time to step back from the edge.

Some people live on the edge because they choose to work under pressure. They're the ones who occasionally miss tax deadlines. Only Uncle Sam thinks that's a "fine" lifestyle.

Me? I hate pressure. I live in Southern California because the closest I want to come to working under pressure is working under air pressure.