Drew attended a hometown street festival with a friend last Saturday. Of course, when he returned, I needed the scoop. I always do. It's a Dee thing. I asked what he did. Drew responded that he rode a mechanical bull. When I asked how it was, Drew deadpanned that he thought it would have been better if they hadn't put a plastic seat on it for him. A plastic seat.....really???? That struck me as so funny...and sad. As my mind and I tend often to do, we together formed a picture of Drew on a massive mechanical bull..... with a plastic seat. What would you call that anyway....a bull seat? A safety saddle? What a...... how shall I say.....buzz kill!
Here was Drew, ten year old testosterone (is there such a thing) pumping, his lean (that's super lean) mean machine 60(maybe 55)pound body ready for his first go at a mechanical bull. What a "he man" moment in time. And someone has the nerve to put a plastic safety seat under his manly (or not) tush......Come on!
I have tried to teach Drew that sometimes it's not such a bad thing to fall off.....to even get a wicked bump or two. He has not yet completely mastered that lesson. But, don't save him with a safety seat. Knowing my son, I am surprised he rode that bull. You don't give Spiderman a safety net. You don't tug on Superman's cape. You don't pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger....admittedly, I am getting carried away.... but you don't give Drew's mechanical bull a plastic seat!
Contrary to the way I may feel on some days, I don't want a guarantee that I will not fail. Not in real estate....not in life. I want to be given the ride of my life, my best shot. I might fall off. I'll get back up. I always have. I don't want someone (or something) protecting me from failure. Where is the accomplishment in that?
Drew, had I been there, My Guy, you would have had your ride.....on a naked bull. And, had you fallen off and gotten hurt, your mommy would wipe those tears and get you ready....for the next time.
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