Shortyism #2: Life will give you second chances, but don’t be a dumba__

So this is the PG-rated version of what Dad actually said, but I think it gets the point across. And unlike most of the Shortyisms on my list, Dad shared this one with me only once. And I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was the day that Dad literally saved my life and I started my journey into manhood.  A mistake that almost cost me my life forever changed me and turned into my greatest life lesson learned.

It was a typically scorching hot July day in Alabama. This one in 1982. I was working for Dad like I did every summer of my teenage years and the only thought on my mind was the driver’s license I would have in a few days. It’s still hard to admit now, but I had become a teenage slacker. I had quit playing sports and figured out how to make the grades in school that I needed to get by. I was still in that awkward post-puberty phase and getting progressively overweight because of the lack of activity and my mother’s cooking that I can’t resist (her fried squash and sweet tea are still the best!). So I had become socially withdrawn and doing little that was productive. But I just knew that driver’s license was going to change my world!

Dad owned his own electrical and plumbing business and had been called to the local nursing home that morning to fix their malfunctioning air conditioning. Dad quickly diagnosed the problem with the electrical service panel for the AC unit and sent me to the truck to get the Allen wrench set needed for the main breaker lugs. I went to the truck thinking about all of the fun things that I would be able to do once I had my license. The same thoughts filled my mind as I walked back into the service building with the Allen wrenches. Dad had decided to take a smoke break while I had gone to get the wrenches and I decided to find the right size wrench as he finished his cigarette. Thinking more about my future joyriding than the 200 amp live electrical panel in front of me, I started to put an uninsulated wrench into the main power lug. Luckily, Dad saw what I was doing and was close enough to run and knock the wrench out of my hand and pull me back from the service panel. I was about two seconds away from being electrocuted.

Now, I’m not sure which hurt most at that immediate moment – my pride or my wrist (Dad’s karate chop not only knocked the wrench out of my hand, but it also felt like a sledgehammer had hit my wrist). But Dad realized that this was one of those moments in life that required a father-son talk. He told his other employee to take a long lunch break and he sat me down in that service building and gave me the Shortyism that made me grow up. He said, “Son, you just "screwed" up and almost killed yourself. You need to get your head out of your ass and grow up. Life will give you second chances and you got one today. But it won’t matter if you are a dumbass.” We talked for another 15 minutes or so and it was all about growing up, thinking and acting like a man wanting to make a positive difference in life, and taking responsibility for your actions. We talked about how the Army did that for him after he graduated high school, but he thought I needed to start thinking about it earlier than he did. I remember the content of that entire conversation, but to this day I remember the exact words he said to start the conversation. I can’t claim that I was never a dumbass again after that day, but I sure tried hard to think and act like a person with purpose in life who learned from their mistakes. My slacker days were done.

After that day I picked up tennis again and began exercising regularly. I got back into decent physical condition which improved my mental state. I started studying and applying myself. There was no cultural or social impediment that had led to my underperformance. It was my own laziness that led to it – both physical and mental. Once I took responsibility for my actions (or lack thereof), I began my journey into manhood after that talk. Thinking before acting. Listening before speaking. Holding myself accountable. Owning mistakes and trying to do better. These are pretty simple rules for life, but I had never made those the rules that defined me before that morning. I have done my best to live by them ever since. If more people followed Dad’s simple rules then maybe there would be less finger-pointing and more positive outcomes in society that we could all share together.

I have never shared this story with anyone. Only my father and his other employee knew what happened that day. Dad didn’t see the need to embarrass me by telling others about my stupidity. He just wanted me to grow up into a thoughtful and responsible man who could think and act in a way that made the world a better place. Looking back, my father’s words from that day were instrumental in shaping me into who I am today and I shared the same philosophy with my own sons (although the words might have been slightly different). We all make mistakes and hopefully we get second chances to learn from them and do better going forward. I have tried my best to learn from mine. After all, I don’t want Shorty calling me a dumbass again.