Tell us of your childhood lesson learned

[Westernbiker]

I was reflecting (Day Dreaming) the other day of times in my childhood. The great times we had living in the desert of Arizona. We would ride our horses from morning till dark. We had our BB-guns and would hunt the deserts ant hills and occasional reptile. We rode our bicycles miles and miles. Then we got our dirt bikes! I was remembering all lessons learned from living in the desert, when I remembered one particular time.

We were kids and had our first dirt bikes, my dad had told me and my buddy to always carry a rope, in case one of our bikes broke down the other could tow the other home. He told us this on many occasion. Did we listen to him? NO! Well one fine summer morning we were 20 or 30 miles from home riding our hearts out when my bike quit. We frigged with it for an hour or so but could not get it started again. Now what do we do? I suppose we could ride double on my friends Honda SL70, but I didn't want to leave my bike out in the desert and I'm sure my dad would not have appreciate that. So, my buddy rode home to get/tell my dad, I was broke down. I waited for probably 2 hours out there in the desert, when I heard a motorcycle and saw my buddy on his bike and my dad behind him in the pickup truck. I thought GREAT! we can load the bike up in the truck and get it and me home. Well dad pulled a big U-turn around me and my bike and without saying a word and without stopping, threw a rope out the window of the truck and headed off into the distance. I stood there in disbelief as I watched that truck get smaller and smaller till it was out of site. I looked at my buddy and he just shrugged his shoulders. We tied the bikes to one another and my buddy towed me all the way home. Now my dad could have easily given my buddy a rope when he showed up at the house but NO. He drove that truck all the way out into the desert and threw that rope out the window to drive home a point! I got it! I NEVER forgot to carry a rope with me ever again. LESSON LEARNED!

[The emperor has no clothes]

  sounds like our Dads are related.

[carolinarider09]

Sort of a long story.  I was 17 maybe 18, I forget and driving my families 1959 Ford station wagon on  a trip to visit my friend in the mountains of NC (Lake Toxaway).  I forget how it happened or why we were three but we (my friend and I and his bother I believe) took a short trip to visit someone.  To get there (my friend lived at the end of a 10 or 15 mile long dirt road out of Lake Toxaway) we had to drive down a steep embankment to his friend's house.  

The big station slide off the road and into the little creek.  It was stuck.  This was maybe 1962 or 63.  It was stuck at the bottom of a short hill.  We called a guy my friend knew that had a wrecker.  He came out and agreed to pull the car out for $20 (lot of money for a teenager on the road back then).

As he hooked up the tow truck to the car, in my infinite wisdom, I began to question his technique of attaching the tow cables.  After a few minutes he said "Son if you are going to keep giving me advice it will cost you $50 to get this car out instead of $20".  I stopped giving him advice.  The car was placed back on the road and my parents never knew we had gotten stuck.

Lesson learned, most (not all) professionals actually know what they are doing.  Offer advice at your peril.  Remember to look and learn at every opportunity.   Listen and learn as well.  

[baldo]

I was reflecting (Day Dreaming) the other day of times in my childhood. The great times we had living in the desert of Arizona. We would ride our horses from morning till dark. We had our BB-guns and would hunt the deserts ant hills and occasional reptile. We rode our bicycles miles and miles. Then we got our dirt bikes! I was remembering all lessons learned form living in the desert, when I remembered one particular time.

We were kids and had our first dirt bikes, my dad had told me and my buddy to always carry a rope, in case one of our bikes broke down the other could tow the other home. He told us this on many occasion. Did we listen to him? NO! Well one fine summer morning we were 20 or 30 miles from home riding our hearts out when my bike quit. We frigged with it for an hour or so but could not get it started again. Now what do we do? I suppose we could ride double on my friends Honda SL70, but I didn't want to leave my bike out in the desert and I'm sure my dad would not have appreciate that. So, my buddy rode home to get/tell my dad, I was broke down. I waited for probably 2 hours out there in the desert, when I heard a motorcycle and saw my buddy on his bike and my dad behind him in the pickup truck. I thought GREAT! we can load the bike up in the truck and get it and me home. Well dad pulled a big U-turn around me and my bike and without saying a word and without stopping, threw a rope out the window of the truck and headed off into the distance. I stood there in disbelief as I watched that truck get smaller and smaller till it was out of site. I looked at my buddy and he just shrugged his shoulders. We tied the bikes to one another and my buddy towed me all the way home. Now my dad could have easily given my buddy a rope when he showed up at the house but NO. He drove that truck all the way out into the desert and threw that rope out the window to drive home a point! I got it! I NEVER forgot to carry a rope with me ever again. LESSON LEARNED!

LOL.....point made, lesson learned...

[DirtyDan]

10 iron spikes 50 foot of rope

Old school dungeons and dragons equipment

Dan

[csj]

I was a teenager, and had somehow found enough money to get my first vehicle. A Honda CB 360. I remember Dad telling me " Well, Guess I'll be Scraping What's Left of You Off Someone's Bumper". That really hit me, and still rings in my ears four decades later.

[Jess from VA]

I was so young I have no memory of this incident, but my mom reminded me of it many times over the decades.

There was a mean monster German Sheppard securely tied to this neighborhood house that always barked his ass off at me.  (He probably wasn't mean, he was just tired of being tied up and jealous of my 4-5yo freedom).

I took to pitching rocks at him to shut him up. Now at that age, they were no more than pebbles, and I probably never hit him.  It got him really excited though.

The fourth or fifth time I did it, he wasn't tied to the house anymore.

RUN FORREST RUN


There are many lessons here, but what comes to mind is.... What goes around, comes around.

[NewValker]

I was surprised that some of my fathers lessons didn’t take until I unwittingly applied them to my son...
Craig

[The emperor has no clothes]

I am the oldest sibling of 4. My Dad ruled by fear in the first 16 years of my life. And there is no doubt, it was an effective strategy. I toed the line for sure. The things that I did do that were not approved of I had to make sure he NEVER found out. I think there were a couple reasons for this. He was in the Air Force for 7 years, and felt that was how he should raise his boys. But really I think the overriding reason he ruled with fear was because of his Dad. His Dad became an alcoholic after his oldest son died in a swimming pool accident. My Dad never really had a father figure and was forced to provide for the family at an early age. I think he just figured what he learned in the military was going to be the best way. It wasn't really. My brother a year and a half younger than me and my Dad butted heads and disliked each other till my Dad's death.
  But something changed in my Dad. He had an awakening about the time I was 16. I'm not sure what provoked it. Maybe because he and my Mom divorced, I'm not really sure. But he changed for sure. Fear was no longer part of the equation. Maybe he just grew, as we all do in a way. I learned much from my Dad. I am much like him in many ways. I have a temper, I am impatient with some people, I am not as caring as I could be. But, luckily I also gained some good qualities from him also. I am loyal, I am a simple man, and maybe best of all, I love my family.
  It's been 16 years he's been gone. There is hardly a day goes by that something doesn't happen that makes me think of what he gave me.
 

[BradValk48237]

Mom could do serious damage with just a long wooden spoon.........

[NewValker]

Yes, the dreaded wooden spoon.
Along with the statement “just wait till your father gets home”
Craig

[DIGGER]

I was reflecting (Day Dreaming) the other day of times in my childhood. The great times we had living in the desert of Arizona. We would ride our horses from morning till dark. We had our BB-guns and would hunt the deserts ant hills and occasional reptile. We rode our bicycles miles and miles. Then we got our dirt bikes! I was remembering all lessons learned from living in the desert, when I remembered one particular time.

We were kids and had our first dirt bikes, my dad had told me and my buddy to always carry a rope, in case one of our bikes broke down the other could tow the other home. He told us this on many occasion. Did we listen to him? NO! Well one fine summer morning we were 20 or 30 miles from home riding our hearts out when my bike quit. We frigged with it for an hour or so but could not get it started again. Now what do we do? I suppose we could ride double on my friends Honda SL70, but I didn't want to leave my bike out in the desert and I'm sure my dad would not have appreciate that. So, my buddy rode home to get/tell my dad, I was broke down. I waited for probably 2 hours out there in the desert, when I heard a motorcycle and saw my buddy on his bike and my dad behind him in the pickup truck. I thought GREAT! we can load the bike up in the truck and get it and me home. Well dad pulled a big U-turn around me and my bike and without saying a word and without stopping, threw a rope out the window of the truck and headed off into the distance. I stood there in disbelief as I watched that truck get smaller and smaller till it was out of site. I looked at my buddy and he just shrugged his shoulders. We tied the bikes to one another and my buddy towed me all the way home. Now my dad could have easily given my buddy a rope when he showed up at the house but NO. He drove that truck all the way out into the desert and threw that rope out the window to drive home a point! I got it! I NEVER forgot to carry a rope with me ever again. LESSON LEARNED!

Good story

[Ice]

Mom could do serious damage with just a long wooden spoon.........

Oh yes, wooden spoons. When I was about 15 or 16 I learned not to be so cursed smart when Mom was PO'd at me. I cannot remember what I had done or said but Mom got mad and just by chance had her favorite wooden spoon in her hand and "Whack" she hit me with it, she hit so hard the spoon broke and naturally being of that age and a smart ass to boot, I looked at her laughed and said that did not hurt, "Wham" I got hit in the head with the frying pan she had been holding in her other hand, and damn that hurt bad. Lesson learned Mom wins.

[RP#62]

Yes, we were fortunate to have been raised when child abuse was legal.

-RP

[..]

Yes, we were fortunate to have been raised when child abuse was legal.

-RP

 

[John Schmidt]

Dad was a big old barrel-chested German, had forearms like a gorilla. As a teenager I had a set of weights on loan from a friend that had joined the Army. One day I had the big bar loaded with 250 lbs. and was doing a series of dead lifts, the idea was to strengthen the overall core muscles. Dad came down to the basement and as he walked by asked what I was up to, so I showed him....then challenged him to do likewise. He bent over, grabbed it with one hand and stood up, then asked "what am I supposed to do now?" Told him to just set it down and leave. Dad just chuckled and walked away, paused and said something that has stuck with me; "son, when you issue(or meet) a challenge, first be sure you know the capability of the other party....regardless of the issue at hand." Needless to say, I never tangled with him...I knew what he was capable of. I watched dad and his brother butcher a couple cattle one day. My uncle usually just hit them with a hammer in the right spot on their head and they dropped. For some reason, the handle broke on the first yearling so dad walked up to the second one, put his arm around the head and lifted his chin and BAM....one blow with his fist to the side of the head and it dropped. I recall the strength of his grip, and late in life when he was really ill and in the hospital....I noticed his grip was gone. My sister called a couple days later, saying he was gone....age 93.

[Westernbiker]

Dad was a big old barrel-chested German, had forearms like a gorilla. As a teenager I had a set of weights on loan from a friend that had joined the Army. One day I had the big bar loaded with 250 lbs. and was doing a series of dead lifts, the idea was to strengthen the overall core muscles. Dad came down to the basement and as he walked by asked what I was up to, so I showed him....then challenged him to do likewise. He bent over, grabbed it with one hand and stood up, then asked "what am I supposed to do now?" Told him to just set it down and leave. Dad just chuckled and walked away, paused and said something that has stuck with me; "son, when you issue(or meet) a challenge, first be sure you know the capability of the other party....regardless of the issue at hand." Needless to say, I never tangled with him...I knew what he was capable of. I watched dad and his brother butcher a couple cattle one day. My uncle usually just hit them with a hammer in the right spot on their head and they dropped. For some reason, the handle broke on the first yearling so dad walked up to the second one, put his arm around the head and lifted his chin and BAM....one blow with his fist to the side of the head and it dropped. I recall the strength of his grip, and late in life when he was really ill and in the hospital....I noticed his grip was gone. My sister called a couple days later, saying he was gone....age 93.

Great story and a heartfelt ending.

[vanagon40]

I was maybe eight years old. Dad converted the chicken coop to a farrowing house and bought some pigs. He offered me a deal:

If I would feed, water, and take care of all the pigs (about 6 sows), he would give me one of them. When my sow's litter went to market with the rest of the pigs, I would get the money for my pigs.

After pondering the deal, it seemed to me that it would be a lot of work and the rewards were way down the road. I declined.

About a week later, Dad told me that my chores now included feeding, watering, and taking care of all HIS pigs.

At some point he I ended up owning one of the sows. I don't remember exactly how that was arranged. But I do remember I never turned down another deal he offered.

[Jess from VA]

We moved 17 times before I went to 1st grade.  I got used to the hazing that new kids (boys) get after each new move.

When a new bunch (3) of older bullies picked on me (no beatings, but pushing you around, and in the mud puddle), I complained to dad (just out of the Corps), and he explained the finer points of striking with elbows and knees, and protecting your face/head, and a combat mind set.  But his best advice was when there was a group, you needed to use a stick; and to poke (nuts, gut, head), not swing.

So the next time the tree bullies came looking for trouble, I asked them to quit, and when they didn't I used a 4' 2 X 2" on all three of them, with a good deal of enthusiasm.  And they all ran off.

When their three dads showed up later to complain about me being a bully, he called me out and asked my version of the truth.  Afterwards he said, so all three of your older boys got bullied by my younger son, alone?  They were not swayed and began to get aggressive with him.  He calmly told them he did not want to fight, but he would oblige them if they insisted, and it could be one by one, or all three at once, their choice... and that it did not matter, because he was going to hurt them all, badly.  They thought about this for a few seconds, and decided to leave.

My dad was 10 feet tall (actually 5'9"), and my hero.  And he was right, you stand up to a bully, and he never comes back.  I was proud to be a chip off the old block.  We wore matching flat tops (haircuts) for years.

[Robert]

We moved 17 times before I went to 1st grade.  I got used to the hazing that new kids (boys) get after each new move.

When a new bunch (3) of older bullies picked on me (no beatings, but pushing you around, and in the mud puddle), I complained to dad (just out of the Corps), and he explained the finer points of striking with elbows and knees, and protecting your face/head, and a combat mind set.  But his best advice was when there was a group, you needed to use a stick; and to poke (nuts, gut, head), not swing.

So the next time the tree bullies came looking for trouble, I asked them to quit, and when they didn't I used a 4' 2 X 2" on all three of them, with a good deal of enthusiasm.  And they all ran off.

When their three dads showed up later to complain about me being a bully, he called me out and asked my version of the truth.  Afterwards he said, so all three of your older boys got bullied by my younger son, alone?  They were not swayed and began to get aggressive with him.  He calmly told them he did not want to fight, but he would oblige them if they insisted, and it could be one by one, or all three at once, their choice... and that it did not matter, because he was going to hurt them all, badly.  They thought about this for a few seconds, and decided to leave.

My dad was 10 feet tall (actually 5'9"), and my hero.  And he was right, you stand up to a bully, and he never comes back.  I was proud to be a chip off the old block.  We wore matching flat tops (haircuts) for years.

Great story.