Big Boy Pants

This expression alludes to being prepared and doing your best in any pursuit. When you wear your big boy pants you better be ready to bring it. I think no matter who you are, man or woman, you should be prepared to wear your big boy pants.

Dominate your lifespace.

Bring your best to the table every time.

What’s the alternative?

Wearing little knickers as you flail away haplessly?

Not bloody likely.

So, as usual, I am talking bullshit with some very cool people from Canada. I was up there for a fishing trip, but somehow Matt, Carla and I started talking about surfing.

Now I am a very average surfer, at least making more trips into shore than not, and the dozen or so Labatt’s (Luv ya Blue) I had consumed had given me even more of a false confidence, so we start daring each other, and who is the idiot who “won” the dare?

I survey the lake and granted, it is a bit of a windy day, but come on.

It’s a lake.

A Great Lake, but a lake. I kept bragging that “I’m a California boy. We have the Pacific Ocean out there. You might have heard of it.”

What an asshole.

On I went making a big horse’s ass of myself once again as I let out an exaggerated guffaw when Carla, a bit too hefty to be doing anything athletic, tried to explain the color coding system of the weather flags posted from the lifeguard’s station.

Green for calm waters (like I would need someone to let me know it was a nice day for the beach), yellow for caution just as in all driving, and …

I rolled my eyes and asked why no one was trying out these 6-8 foot storm waves crashing to surf? There had to be a hundred people watching the waves crash to shore.

Matt chimed in.

A black flag was whipping in the wind.

“Yeah, too dangerous. Nasty undertow and people go into those waves and do not come back,” Matt said matter-of-factly as he opened another beer.

He was serious.

It looked to me like all that was missing was a huge set of balls.

“I’ll tell you amateurs what. You stand here on the shore and get a good seat to watch ME do a little body surfing. I have bodysurfed The Wedge in southern California, so I think I can handle these little splashers.”

I did not expound on the fact I almost died out there when I found myself on the crest of a wave that broke right on the surf. If you were smart (and skillful) enough to tumble correctly. It was the ride of a lifetime. But looking straight down to sand is crazy.

And people died there.

No joke.

Forget about trying to surf with conventional boards.

Death wish.

So with over a hundred people focusing in on the California Kid, I enter the foreboding water.

The first wave hit me hard enough to send me flying. The second and third waves hit right behind, preventing me from drawing in breath.

It must have looked pretty funny me trying to stand up only to be knocked back down, over and over again, but what none of the crowd realized was I was fighting for my life.

Scary.

Almost made me wet my Big Boy Pants.

Stay well.

Published by maddogg09

I am an unmotivated genius with an extreme love for anything that moves the emotional needles of our lives.

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