Riding up hill, into the wind, both ways

      Riding uphill, into the wind, both ways.

         There are those restless souls amongst us who always seem to be swimming upriver in the mainstream of life. Whether it is in the mode of a fist raised against an angry sky, railing against the iniquitous fates ala Scarlet O’Hara in “Gone with the wind,” or maybe acting out a more quietly subversive life, like the Jack Nicholson character in “One flew over the Cuckoo’s nest.” There are those among us who won’t roll over when pushed. I happen to be like that and have been since age three, when a few other lads wanted to take over the dirt pile in the neighborhood sand box. When one of them whacked me, I went home looking for tearful TLC from my mother. She looked me over and seeing me unhurt calmly advised me to “go and hit him back.” Thus began my training in life.

         The old man (dad) told us that the family motto was to get back up again after getting knocked down and keep doing so until the opposition got tired. That’s when he advised we should wade on in and got to work on them. Most opponents never came back for a second round. Thanks for those snippets of advice mom and dad.

         I have always envied the boot lickers, yes men and ass kissers among us. They seem to get ahead in life and succeed so much easier that the rest of us. Sure, they have to brown nose a little, shine some official’s shoes and act in a servile manner to authority figures. But it is to them that the good things in life seem to happen. So why not act like that and get ahead more quickly, I wonder?

          Mostly because some of us, particularly those of the stiff-necked Hibernian variety, would rather die than kiss some douche bag’s butt to get ahead. Rather we rot in a sea of failure or expire while climbing the steepest of hills, the odds against us twenty to one, that knuckle under to the whims of some supercilious clown.

         Others shake their head at the stubbornness of those of us who ride uphill, into the wind, going both ways. But, like salmon who swim upstream to mate and spawn, it breeds in us a healthy ability to survive any confrontation and persevere until the oppressive rascal gives up and comes at us no more.

         It does breed a combative spirit that carries over into all phases of life. My wife’s golf swing matches here attitude, easy going and laid back. My golf swing reflects my inner drives, that of someone long used to double handed axe dueling or one who revels in chain saw fighting matches.

         In the final analysis, we are who we are and act accordingly. How such behavior is judged by friends is something beyond our control. So when next you observe a friend riding uphill, into the wind both ways, just smile at the novelty of their perplexity and get the heck out of their way.

                                    -30-

                           (518 words)

                  Joseph Xavier Martin