Sometime back I was asked this question. In what way are you a “Why not” kind of person? I showered myself with accolades about being a “Why Not” sort of person, ready to chance new things. That was a lot of baloney!
Today I’m going to answer the “Why Not” question.
I’ll start with why I don’t ride a horse. The only time I ever sat on one, It lifted a back leg to dislodge flies that had landed on its rump. Scared me to death. I decided then and there I would only ride a horse if it kept all four feet on the ground.
Why not go fishing? Because fish won’t bite bare hooks, lures are expensive and worms are icky.
Why not bake a pie? I tried when I was a newly wed. We lived on a college campus in a trailer house just adjacent to a pig pen. I made two pies. Took both of them to the pigs – I loved my husband too much to offer them to him. Guess I over-reacted. Pigs didn’t get sick.
And I won’t touch anything that looks like a button attached to something that will adjust. I tried it one time. Set my car seat to automatically adjust for a woman 6 feet 2 inches tall. I pushed cancel but now it will suit a 4 foot 5 inch person. I considered trying again to see what happens, but every time I reach for the button, my brain tells me, “Three strikes and you’re out.” So I’ll just play it safe and leave it where it is.
Actually I knew better than to try anything requiring an understanding of anything mechanical. I took a projector into an English class to show sentence diagramming. I couldn’t find the thing-a-ma-jig to turn it on. Some very bright student turned it on for me. He did it so quickly; he must have been an engineering student. The really bad thing about it was that it was the first day of class. They never did trust me to know about English. I don’t know why. One doesn’t have to know how to push a button in order to tell the difference in a predicate adjective and a predicate nominative.
When my husband went to England, he invited me along but I didn’t go. It’s not that I’m afraid of flying; I’m afraid of not flying. Like going down in the Atlantic. I can’t swim. I’ve tried to learn how. I’ve researched a lot of books, but they all start out as if I’m already in the Atlantic – or at least a backyard pool. I looked for one for beginners – one that begins in the bathtub. That would be a big step for me. I only take showers. It wouldn’t be reasonable to think I could begin in a shower, would it? I could hold my nose and stick my face in the shower head.
My family says not to worry. Fat floats and muscle sinks. I say, “Big deal. So my head goes down and my bottom goes up.” Some comfort! I don’t think so!
My husband used to try to help me when I started on a trip. He would always say “Let me check the oil.” Then he would say “Pull the hood latch.” I tried but the only thing that happens is that the brake light comes on. After a time or two, he would yell, “I said open the hood.” I yelled back, “I did but the light just comes on.” He would say, “I didn’t say the brake – pull the hood latch.” Now when I go on a trip, he just kisses me bye and tells me to stop at Lubby Lobby to get my car checked out. I don’t know why he sends me to them; he never did like those folks down there.
So, do you want more? I don’t hike because it’s hard work; I don’t dance because I sweat; I don’t draw because I never got past drawing cars – a little box attached to a larger box with two circles for wheels (side view, I know a car has four wheels). I don’t climb sand dunes, because I don’t like sand in my shoes; I don’t open the sun roof because I don’t like wind. I don’t eat shrimp because they stink, and I don’t eat oysters because they are slimy.
Well, by now you know what a hypocrite I was when I bragged about my being an adventurous hip “Why not” person.
Now I’ll tell you, Why Not? Because I don’t like being laughed at, I don’t like sun, sand, wind, or water. I don’t like icky, slimy, or stinky; I don’t like hurts, pain, failure. And I don’t like sweat. So, that’s Why Not!