Rooting for the Underdog Most of my life I've rooted for the Underdog. I have also found myself trying to be different from the mainstream in almost all ways of life. I just realized this tonight---- Or at least I finally put conscious thought around it... I like 9mm over .45 I like .223 over .308 I like well water over municipal I like herbs over pharmaceuticals I bought a .22 suppressor over a 50 BMG can. I run Linux instead of Windows and OO instead of Office, etc. I ran the forum from phpBB instead of vB until the web host told me I had to switch over security concerns My wedding rings were silver instead of gold. I like to invest in silver and gold rather than paper or stocks. I run this site from a laptop over a desktop PC I think my wife is prettier than the woman on the screen. I drive a diesel over gasoline truck I like yellow lined paper over white I listen to local AM radio rather than nationally syndicated talk radio I attend a non-denominational church I buy meat at a local butcher rather than the supermarket. Same for produce I bought a grass fed cow to slaughter instead of grain fed I didn't vaccinate my newest daughter and have to sign a waiver at every check up I volunteer 4 nights a month as a visitor at a federal holding facility, (prison) I like cats over dogs, (have both) Wood heat over gas Solar (or other alt energy) over grid power A maul, cant hook and wedge over a log splitter Ron Paul over the other mainstream GOP candidates. (Heck, I'd choose Edwards over Obama/Hillary for that matter) I prefer grassroots over HQ governance I like bottom up over top down management I'd rather swing a hammer than make decisions from the truck The darker the bread the better, even the crusts I stop when I hit an animal and perform a mercy kill I'd rather read than watch Country over city Peace over money And on and on and on. Always Local over Corporate... Some of these are and some of these aren't really underdogs. But I believe my wanting to be 'different' from the pack has stemmed from the love of the underdog. Tonight after a few days of organizing my stuff, I figured out where this all came from. I was 9 years old and had moved and started at a new school. I guess I looked different from the other kids or I was just a new kid in a small town. Who knows. The bus picked me up at the second to last stop before the school. After school, I passed my house and had to sit on the bus for an hour until they looped back around to me. The very last stop was the home of Chris Middleton. That guy was about 3 years older and about 50 pounds over me. He had a permanent sneer on his face- a face that looked like it had chased a fart through a keg of nails. He was bad mean. I was the worm. The bus route worked out that I had about an hour after school with this guy that had it out for me. Was it the house my parents had just built? The old Mercedes in the driveway? My cute little butt? For whatever reason, we clashed. He'd punch me and push me and verbally abuse me and I'd come home in tears day after day. One of his friends joined in. Wow, Just thought of his name too.... Todd Lyons. He'd find me each and every recess. I had no network or base. I was the new kid. "You're a loser! You're a p***y!" It never ended. One night my mom must have told my dad about what I was going through. He called me aside and told me that I needed to get on the bus that next morning, walk to the back, (Where the toughs sat), and call Mr Middleton out. When he stood up I was to haul off with all of my 70 lb might and punch him in the nose. I chickened out the first few days and then he finally came to me. I followed my father's instructions, and gave him all I could put into the first punch of my life. I was amazed to see him start screaming when he saw his blood run down his upper lip... blood! He cried like a baby. (this was 1980 and you didn't get in trouble for fistfights on the bus then). I have since realized it doesn't take much to bloody a bullies nose. They bleed easily and are more shocked that you did it than feel the pain. (A nose shot does send a jolt through your head though ) I don't remember anything after that so he must have not ever been a problem again. Either he chilled out or my confidence was so great that my swagger wobbled my brain. dunno. That's what I remembered tonight and I've realized that my want for being different and my incessant rooting for the underdog to win the fight is based around a very simple fact: I can't stand Bullies. I will always lend support to the weaker in the battle, race, or competition Even if they aren't truly weak but not understood or shunned. I was not 'weak' with Chris Middleton, I was stronger so long as I believed it. It explained a lot of things in my life. Choices I have made, places I have lived. I've always chosen the smaller over the bigger, even when everyone around me chooses otherwise. So, this melbo will always support the underdog. And don't get in my freakin' way!
One day in high school, and underclassmen I knew was constantly getting picked on by 3 stoner kids. For some reason, they just thought they could pick & pick & pick on this kid who did not deserve it. This underclassmen and I had become friends over time and he told me what was going on. I, too, have always stood/stand up for the one getting picked on so I cornered the little bastards one morning at their lockers and let them know that I, as well as the other 5 football players I brought along with me, would put an end to their picking on this kid violently or simply by asking them to stop. It was their choice. Melbo never had to deal with those three bastards again....
Gee, we have a lot in common, well except for cats, don't care for them much, plus I'm allergic to them
I remember my first encounter with a bully; a-hole named Randy Fesmire. He whipped my ass every day for three weeks before he finally gave up. Teach him to mess with me!
Funny thing is most of the time I can't remember what I did yesterday, but when it comes to the first bully his name is burned into my memory.
Thanks all. Yep Clyde did help me out a few times. I guess I was still a small kitty for a few years after that. Now I'm a lean mean lovin' machine.
