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Being a bully does not make you right.
When I was a young boy, I lived next to an auto repair garage on West Washington Street in Chambersburg. I did not know the garage owner well, but he was always nice to me. When I was old enough, I asked him if I could fill my bicycle tires with air. He showed me how to use his electric air compressor, and told me that I could use it anytime my bicycle tires needed air.
One Saturday afternoon, my tires seemed low. So I went next door to use the air compressor. It was a hot day and the large doors in front of the garage were open. I parked my bicycle on the sidewalk in front of the garage and set the kickstand, so the bicycle wouldn’t fall over.
The air compressor had a long hose. At the end of it was a pressure gauge that could be adjusted for the exact air pressure. I pulled the hose out of the garage next to my bicycle, and proceeded to set the pressure gauge to 65 pounds.
Meanwhile, next door at my house, my step-father was sitting on the front porch, seemingly enjoying the sunny afternoon with my mother and grandmother. No sooner had I appeared on the sidewalk with the air hose, than my step-father got up, came flying off the porch and walked over to me. Actually, he ran the few steps from the porch to the front of the garage.
“What are you doing?”
“Filling my tires with air.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re low.”
“Do you have permission to do that?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know how much air to put into the tires?”
“It’s printed on the side of the tire. See….” I pointed to the printing on the side of the front tire.
“I don’t have my glasses on.”
“It says 65 pounds.”
“That can’t be.”
“It is.” And I read it out loud again.
“Well, either the label is wrong or you are lying to me. Which is it?”
“Daddy, I don’t know what you mean.”
“You better know what I mean. You could blow up your tires and then expect your mother and me to buy you new tires.”
“Daddy, I don’t understand. I always put this much air in my tires. It says so right here. What am I doing wrong?”
“You are not listening to me. The tires on my car need 35 pounds of air, and look how big they are. Those little tires on your bicycle don’t carry twice as much air as in my car tires.”
“But…” I protested.
“Now put 20# of air in your tires and that’s it.”
“I won’t be able to ride my bicycle.” I began to cry.
“Do it.”
“OK.” Between sniffles and tears I buckled under and started letting air out of my front tire.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking air out of my tires.”
“I didn’t tell you to take air out of your tires.”
“You told me to put 20 pounds of air in them.”
“Are you lying to me again?”
“What do you mean?”
“You just told me that you needed to put air into your tires, and now you are taking air out of them.”
“But…”
“No buts. Now put that hose away. Then put the bicycle away and go into the house. That’s enough lying.”
And so it went on and on and on all afternoon and into the evening until I finally was able to fall asleep. When you are a little kid and an adult, especially one who has authority over you, bullies you, there is little to nothing you can do.
It was not until my high school physics class (taught by Mr. Glendon Weeks), that I discovered the difference between volume (the amount of space that air occupies which, of course, is larger in a car tire than a bicycle tire) and pressure (the continuous force exerted by the air onto the tires which, again, is normally greater in a bicycle tire).
The reason this incident is burned so deeply into my consciousness is not that it turned out that I was right. The reason is that I was expected to yield to facts that were not facts. And because I did not have the ability to stand up for what I knew was right, I was being bullied and offered no choice.
After all of these years, I have learned to live with my nightmares.
Yet, there are others who might be themselves suffering under the tyranny of a bully. If you are, run from that bully as fast as you can. Go somewhere safe. You are a better person than that and, like all human beings, you deserve both security and respect.
No one, especially our country’s president, down to the lowest manual worker, should bully others. Nor should any of us normalize that kind of behavior.
Bill Gindlesperger is a central Pennsylvanian, Dickinson College graduate, Pennsylvania System Of Higher Education (PASSHE) Governor, former Shippensburg University Trustee, awarded numerous patents, as well as Founder and Chairman of eLynxx Solutions. eLynxx provides cloud-software for automated sourcing and managing of mail marketing, swag, packaging, and all things print. He is a board member, campaign advisor, successful entrepreneur, published author and commentator. He can be reached at Bill.Gindlesperger@eLynxx.com.
