Pride & Phone Theft…
September 23, 2008
Sounds like a powerful new book title, doesn’t it?
This past Saturday I bought my wife’s phone back. I got a phone call on my cell phone from my wife, Cyle, which was only odd because she appeared to be calling me from her cell phone, and yet we were both home and she was JUST outside – I could’ve heard her just as well if she just called my name a little more loudly than would be normal under not-in-the-middle-of-an-argument-like circumstances. The voice, however, is what really threw me; “Hey, do you know this number?“
Immediately I wanted to kick his… um… rear. No, I wanted to do far worse than that. My first impression was that Cyle was being held at knife-point in the back-yard, and I was immediately trying to figure out how to kill him, while not harming her. Yes, I went there that quickly.
“I was absolutely trashed last night and I bought this cell-phone at the gas station on Gloucester“, he said next – not even realizing that I had been planning my wife’s rescue, and his demise.
He was now off the hook, to a large degree, but I still wanted to beat him down. I got the details of the story from him, and his tale had some merit. I asked some facts of my wife and it appears she left her phone in our car – which was parked on the street – and forgot to lock it. She talked to him for a few minutes, and it came to the point that he asked for his money back, at least in part. We said ‘yes‘, sorta.
We TOLD HIM, verbally, “yes” – but what we meant was, “I’m not quite sure yet – I want my phone back, and I can’t get a new one for $20, but I’m considering all sorts of things to protect my pride in this matter, including just sending a cop over to pry it from your fingers.” So, we called the cops, and talked through all of our options, including the possibility that he was some sort of evil conspirator, and that I would be taken hostage or jumped/mugged/killed in broad daylight in a busy parking lot when I drive to meet him with my $20 to get my wife’s cell phone back.
At the climax of this story, I drove to his mama’s house – where he was recovering from his hang-over – handed him a $20 in his yard, and got my wife’s cell-phone. He was clearly a nice fellow, and it would’ve made a rather boring scene in an action/suspense movie. Then I drove home, still carrying the gnawing sense that I wanted to woop on someone viciously.
Of course, this was the power of my internal sense of justice and right-doing, right? Probably not. It wasn’t so much that I couldn’t believe someone stole a cell phone out of a car right in front of a home. It was that someone stole MY wife’s cell phone, out of MY car, in front of MY home! How could they do that TO ME?!?!
Ah, world – bow to the mighty Shannon! Recognize his greatness, and humble yourself before him, lest ye pay!
Pride is a real jerk. You think your doing pretty good spiritually (there’s the first mistake, actually), and the next thing you know, you’re your god – the al-wussy judge of the universe, to whom all must pay their dues if they attempt to hinder – or complex-ify – your way whatsoever.
The good thing about this discover is that now I know who’s tail to kick. Mine (some would call it the flesh).
“I’m diggin’ you a shallow grave
An’ to the sun your face I’ll raise
I’m diggin you a shallow grave
One hundred buzzards a’buzzin’
I’m diggin’ you a shallow grave
An’ on your rotten bones I’ll raise
Yellow daisies For my true loves hair
One hundred buzzards buzzin’
I see death runnin from his Majesty
O Lord, where is the fear in me?
In between your praying hands
You hold the skeleton key“
(Lyrics from “Heal on the Shovel” by Sixteen Horsepower)
When have you found pride slip in on you when most would feel your actions were justified?
How do you personally war against the flesh? What techniques word best for you?
Why wasn’t Sixteen Horsepower world-famous when they were still a band?
Important questions to consider – discuss…