For those of you who are unfamiliar with the TV showAmerica's Funniest Home Videos, it's a long-running (20 years) American program in which people send in their home movies for comedic effect. Each show varies, but the general theme includes a fair amount of time devoted to videos of people screwing up in assorted amusing ways. Think "hold my beer and watch this!" and you won't be too far off, though there are plenty of barfing-at-the-wedding or felling-tree-onto-the-house kinds of videos as well. Sprinkle in the obligatory cute little kid and pet videos, and you have a pretty entertaining show.

I have found AFV to be an invaluable parenting resource. My children have watched this show basically their entire lives. When one of my kids (usually a boy kid for some reason) is on the verge of doing something that will almost certainly result in serious nard damage, say riding a bike off the roof into the swimming pool, I don't pre-emptively freak out, I just calmly remind said Boy of the outcome of a similar effort by some painfully racked performer on the TV show. Invariably, said Boy reflects for a moment, then agrees to climb down off the roof and return the colander helmet to the kitchen. No nard damage whatever. It's great. No arguments, no testosterone-poisoned bravado, just a calm recognition that what seems to be a great idea may not in fact be so brilliant.

(A friend suggests that the TV show Cops might be an equally valuable resource. I think I'll save that one for when puberty happens-- in case the boys are tempted to buy wife-beater T-shirts.)

For Christmas a couple of years back,  we bought a trampoline for the kids. Now around here, parents seem to be of three distinct minds with regard to trampolines: The first group also purchases this protective net thing that wraps around the trampoline, ostensibly to prevent Junior from launching himself sideways into a fence, car, or running wood chipper. That's understandable, their kids probably have not had the training that America's Funniest Home Videos so generously provides, and are highly likely to attempt suicide if not securely contained in a circus net.

The second group is slightly less paranoid, and digs a huge hole to place the net-less trampoline at ground level. This certainly eliminates the hazard that an elevated platform presents, but does little to prevent junior from executing a flawless, low-altitude half-gainer into the patio firepit. Plus, the semi-concealed nature of the trampoline can cause issues when one is drunkenly stumbling about the backyard in the dark, buck naked in a thunderstorm. We've all been there, right?

The last group, including yours truly, simply tries to position the trampoline out in the open, where when the child turns into a misguided missile they can be reasonably sure of not landing on anything too sharp, hard, or expensive (We also try to avoid nearby power lines just in case). This category of parent is split into two sub-groups: Those with video cameras, and those who watch AFV. The people with video cameras at the ready capture hours of video showing gooberheads having painful fun with physics. They then send these videos to the producers of America's Funniest Videos, who in turn show them on the TV show. Parents like me force our kids to watch said unfortunate impromptu acrobats, thus imbibing our precious offspring with what amounts to tribal knowledge, of the non-gooberhead variety. It's like survival of the fittest by TV Training -- Darwin would be so proud.

Anyway, when I am sailing, I find myself constantly running a "what would AFV do?" subroutine in the back of my mind. Now I'm sure that everyone reading this (being a salty bunch, yarrr) has some equivalent subconscious safety program running in their minds too, but I submit that safety knowledge gleaned from a book, no matter how good that book is, is no comparison to watching some fool bust his nuts on a bow pulpit. And then laughing about it.

I know, for example , that it is never a good idea to take a flying leap for the dock as you approach. AFV has hilariously demonstrated how that can go wrong, many times. As soon as I am tempted to take such a leap, the little video shows in my reptilian fore brain and I suddenly have an attack of common sense. I veer off and try a different strategy, one that (usually) does not result in nard damage. I never learned that from K. Adlard Coles.

I know that screwing around on a wet foredeck in bare feet can result in a spectacular triple gainer, bouncing off of various boat parts, until you finish with a nice belly flop. Then you get to watch your boat sail itself over the horizon without you (the one time it sails by itself without you tending the tiller, of course). The Bluejacket's Manual has nothing to say about that, I assure you.

AFC has taught me the wisdom of approaching the dock slowly, instead of at full speed. This is one sailor who is not going to launch Grandma over the bow pulpit as we pulverize an innocent bystander's dingy under a full-sail docking maneuver.

So, I think that any serious safety-minded sailor should put away the sailing books, crack open a beer, and watch America's Funniest Home Videos. This especially applies to those of you who also own jet skis. You know who you are. Let the other guy do dumb, klutzy, or insane stuff so you don't have to, and we'll all be happier in the long run. And we won't have to use the boathook to gaff grandma out of the bay.

For the rest of you, please remember to bring the video camera, OK?  The safety of my children depends on you.