Pride (and a Bus Pass) Will Get Me Everywhere!

“Pride goeth before a fall.” So, they say so.

Perhaps I am not one to talk, but I can definitely (and easily) relate to this. There have been MANY instances where my pride has gotten in my way. Perhaps, I should have seen the fall coming, but pride always got in my way.

It all goes back to my grade school days. I was semi-athletic, but I never played on a team until I was in seventh grade. That was the year I tried out from my grade school baseball team. Okay. I made it to the scrub squad, but at least I was on a team.

I felt really good about myself and by what I could do.

After all, I considered myself to be a student-athlete. There is no one finer than a student-athlete. Or so I thought.

One day, while I was riding my ten speed bike, I met a new neighbor. His name was Tony and he rode a much smaller bike called a Stingray. It resembled a small motorcycle that only biker gangs had minus the motor. What was amazing is that Tony had a talent that amazed all of us. He made some room for himself on this bike and then did something we never saw in real life. He pulled up on the handlebars and proceeded to ride his bike using just his rear wheel. In other words, he did a wheelie. We watched as he rode for a length of about three or four houses. It was truly an event to see.

Not wishing to be outdone by this rookie neighbor, I decided to give it a shot. If he could do it, why can’t i?

I rode around to make room for myself. I got my ten speed racer, a bike that had a much different and larger configuration, up to speed. I pulled up on the handlebars and before you knew it, I, too, was doing a wheelie! I felt so proud of myself.

A few days later, I borrowed my sister’s bike, a machine very similar to but not exactly like Tony’s bike. I was doing wheelies…..except on a pink bike that was built for girls. I didn’t even travel bthree or four houses. I barely traveled one house length. I almost hit a tree. I figured that I’d better stop before I hurt a someone, mainly ME!

My parents were outside one day. I wanted to show off just for them. I remember saying, “Watch me!” as I prepared my 10 speed for an unusual ride. I cleared the area, got myself up to speed and pulled up on the handlebars. The front end of the bike rose into the air……and it kept rising. So did I. Before I knew it, the bike did not stop at a 45-degree angle as I had planned. It was quickly heading to a 180-degree angle, something I did not plan for it to do. Yup. I was heading for a crash and there was nothing I could do. What’s worse is that my parents were watching and so we’re my friends as I crashed to the ground flat on my back. I ended up facing up and trying to figure out what do do next. I could not slink off into the sunset. I had to face my embarrassment and take my lumps, figuratively and literally. I simply smiled and took my bike and self inside the house. I was done. No more wheelies for me!!! I was done.

I haven’t seen Tony since that summer. I figured that with his talent, he was going to replace Evil Knievel one day. Who knows? (And who cares anyway?)

Did my pride stop there? Uh……nope!!! I still didn’t learn my lesson.

I remember my first year in high school. I thought that I was the toughest guy in the whole school. I accidentally bumped into another freshman and told him, “If you bump into me again, I’m gonna bust your teeth out! I will hit you in the mouth!” Again, unfortunately for me, he decided to call me out on my idiotic and thoughtless challenge. He dared me to do so. At that moment, his friends who were nearby, gathered around. There weren’t too many of them, just ten or so. I was sure that Bruce Lee wouldn’t have a problem with this situation. Then again, Mr. Lee would not have shot off his mouth like I did. I was not Bruce Lee. I needed an instant solution because my fat mouth wrote a check that my insufficient funds of a body could not cash. There was only one viable solution.

“Greg,” I said, “I am so very, very sorry. I just don’t know what came over me. Please forgive me.”

From that day forward, we did not engage in any physical contact except for a handshake. I learned to keep my fat mouth shut and keep my stupid thoughts, no matter how hideous they were, to myself. Big mouth lesson finally learned.

Was I done? Nope. Not by a long shot!

I still had to prove that I had some substance with my words. I remember after I obtained my first drive-able car (Don't ask.) It was a 1972 Chevy Vega. The dang thing was just 8 years old at the time and it burned more oil than I could ever imagined. When I bought it (Don't ask me.) with one of my measly paychecks, I could not wait to use it. This sucker was going to be a babe magnet for sure.

Or so I thought!

When I got that hunk of rolling metal on the road, I saw why the owner was quick to sell it. It had a four cylinder engine and the seller told me that it had great mileage. I wondered, "If the car is so great, why is he selling it?"I started it up. It sure sounded good. There was no knock in the engine, but what did I know? I wasn't a mechanic. I turned the car off and ran inside to tell my friends that I finally had a car. When I came back outside, I saw the former owner outside counting the cash I gave him. He pointed at me and yelled out to his friends, "Ventosa!!" I didn't know what that meant, but I am sure that it is a nice word because all of his friends started laughing. So, I laughed with them.

I drove the contraption to work one day. Before I got in to start it up before my journey, I checked underneath the hood. The engine was still there. I pulled out the dipstick. It was VERY low on oil. I reached into the hatch and pulled out my last bottle of 10W-40 oil and proceeded to fill up the engine. I parked the beast and went in to do my work. At lunchtime, I came outside in order to go to the nearest deli. Something inside - my inner vertosa - told me to check under the hood before I went anywhere. I popped the hood and checked the dipstick. Again, I was VERY low on oil. I put the stick back in, closed the hood and then reached into my pocket to see how much cash I had. I only had $5. What a shame! I really had my eyes on a nice turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich. I walked to the corner. Instead of making a right for the deli, I made a left to go to the nearest auto store. I had to feed my car instead of feeding me.

Could my day get any worse? Yup! It did.

Back in 1981 when all of this happened, we had no cell phones. They were all landlines. About two hours after I got home, Tim, a high school buddy, invited me over for a social at his home with his family. At first, I wanted to decline because I was worried about driving my bucket of bolts and rusting steel, but I accepted the invite.

I drove and drove all while checking my rear view mirror and the amount of smoke that I left behind. I was certain that if this heap ran off the road, I would be found by someone noticing the smoke trail. I didn't care if this thing seized up and burned to the ground. It would have been an improvement.

I finally arrived, but instead of enjoying a nice time, I was worried about the Vega getting its revenge on me by breaking down in the boondocks, forcing me to hitchhike home like they do in those horror movies. The only horror here was being trapped in that Vega, unable to move and all my friends passing by and laughing at me as they pointed at my situation.

I finally made it home that evening. It was unusual for me to drive home while saying a very lovely collection of expletives at this monstrosity that was labeled a car. It was no car. It was a pile of rolling trash!

When I saw the former owner the next day - the same guy I gave my money to - I told him of my horrid experiences with his product. The conversation went like this:

ME: This car is horrible! It burns more oil that an Iraqi oil field! I want my money back!

JOSE: Who are you? No hablo ingles.

ME: What? Speak English! I don't understand you!

JOSE: I said that I don't speak English......Oooops! No hablo ingles.

ME: What am I supposed to do? I need a ride to get to work!

JOSE: Well, you can take the bus over there, Tonto, but the money is mine.

It was a lesson learned. I had to get on the phone and explain to my friends why I could not attend a party later on that Saturday night. It really hurt.

TIM: You can't make it? That is a shame. Elizabeth is here and she really wanted to meet you. She told me that she is in love with you. She was hoping that you could get here. WAIT! Don't come. Biilly is here and it looks like he is putting the moves on her.

ME: WHAT? Tell him to get away from my girl!!!

TIM: Too late. They are busy necking on the sofa. Too bad, Maurice. Maybe next time.

There was no next time. Dang rolling trash can.

Yeah, I learned my lesson. I learned that if you brag, you might have to accept what happens when your bragging doesn't equal your actions. You have to accept the shame and embarrassment that comes along with it. You need to just shut up at times. At my age, I like to look at my accomplishments in the past tense. I graduated from a university. Attempted! Completed! Done! I worked for 42 years. Attempted! Completed! Done! I did so many things, but they are all in my past. I can brag about those. I simply cannot brag about what I haven't done yet and I never will. II can put it in a form of a plan. "I plan to...........one day." That seems to be acceptable. I always wanted to appear as a contestant on the game show Jeopardy. I always wanted to meet Alex Trebek. will it ever happen? I honestly don't know right now. What I do know is that I am not going to tell my family and friends that I could win at Jeopardy any time I want. Doing so would elicit the response from someone saying to me, "Oh yeah? Prove it!" One day, I will get the guts to do so, but now is not the time.

So, if you are a braggart, beware. This is a huge world. You can pretty much go anywhere you want. There are plenty of places and plenty of opportunities to embarrass yourself. You can do it alone or you can do it in front of other people. Either way, you will feel embarrassed. I should know. I'm an expert. I have embarrassed myself almost a zillion times, but I have finally learned my lesson. That fall is quite painful.

Now, I have a question for ya. Would you like to buy a car? I have one for ya. It gets great mileage (as long as you don't drive it).