Story Weekend: Rebellion
This week’s theme popped into my mind out of nowhere and I look forward to seeing what that word conjures up for you. I’m not going to start it off with my own story this week so as not to influence anyone. Instead, I’ll let you take this in whatever direction you like.
If you’re new to Story Weekend, here’s how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who’ve been contributing. As always, there are a few “rules”:
▪ The story must be true.
▪ Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That’s about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it’s too long. I know how tough it is to “write tight” but I hope you’ll accept this as a challenge.
▪ Avoid offensive language, unless you want to be a rebel!
Have a good weekend, everyone!
Rebellion/rebel, I think that is what I’ve been doing for the last three years. I found out how short life can be so I decided to change……..me! I’m a bit of a late bloomer. I no longer wait for permission to be happy, I can choose to be! If I’m told that I’m too old to learn “hi-tech” phones, etc., I think to myself, just watch me! I joined a gym for the first time in my life a few months ago and found that I love it! I finally like myself after all these years.
Well that’s the path the word “rebellion” took me on!
I was goody two-shoes; my little sis was the rebel! Although I have already shared a bit of her unconventional antics (via Gardening), I am uncertain if I should tell any more tales since she is unable to defend herself so, as my grandson likes to say, I shall “zip it, lock it and ‘keep’ it in my pocket.” Zan, on the other hand, is free to tell all, including appropriate vs. inappropriate frat party attire!!! lol
Deb, this makes me SO HAPPY to read! You go, girl!
JoAnne, your sister was a rebel indeed. It was one of the things I loved best about her. xoxo
Rebel? In 2006 we bought our first Harley. In 2007 we took our first long vacation. Friend invited us along to Sturgis SD with them. I thought “NO”. That wasn’t anything I could see me doing. I had heard stories you know. He had his heart set on it and he promised to show me the US, I better climb on. I had so much fun. There were like a bajillion motorcycles everywhere. All the towns from Rapid City to Hill City and every where in between had Main St. shut down to “Cages”(cars) and Motorcycles filled the streets. The Black Hills provided some very scenic roads to cruise. And of course it would have not been complete without seeing Mt. Rushmore. As you came around the mountain, and you saw this magnificent part of our history, you are filled with wonder and awe.
I think that week of August in Sturgis was my first act of Rebellion on our Motorcycle.
While in my early twenties, I got pulled over for speeding, felt it was not justified, and decided to take a stand. So I explained nicely to the police officer that I was driving within the speed limit, and therefore would not be signing the ticket. He asked me several times to sign it, but I kept refusing, explaining to him that I would not sign something that I felt was an admission of guilt. As I became more defiant, he got angrier. Eventually, he removed me from my car, cuffed me, and threw me in the back of his patrol car. He was ready to haul me off to jail when I came to the conclusion that “the cause” was not worth going to jail. So, I sheepishly signed the ticket. Alas…so much for rebellion.
I think I was born a rebel. At the very least my mom says I came out with the word Rebel tatooed on my forehead. I simply don’t want to miss a chance at well, anything. I will approach anyone, dance in the streets when the mood takes me, tell someone I think they are fantastic cause I think it’s what they need to hear in that moment or hug the unhuggable. My thought is this. So what if you make a fool of yourself. So what if people talk. They are going to talk anyway so you might as well give them something interesting to say. Years ago a famous soap star came to our town. I lined up for hours with my sisterinlaw and then when my turn came I said. ‘All you do is kiss people on your show. Are you any good at it? and the rest is recorded on film by my very embarressed sister in law:}Hey he doesn’t remember me but as for me, I’ll always remember him.. Life’s to short to miss the good bits.
Nancy, probably a smart move! Cindy, this sounds so cool. Sheree, whenever I read your comments, I always hope I get to meet you some day!
Thanks Diane.I would love to meet you as well . I am sure one day we will . I ‘m thinking you need to do a book tour of Ireland 🙂
I never, ever rebelled! I was the youngest of 5 kids & had heard all the stories of my older brother’s escapades & how once, one of my brother’s drove his car on the lawn in a housing project in our small town. Although he wasn’t arrested, but did have to spend the night in jail (this was in the 60’s; I was a teenager in the 70’s). I also witnessed one of my sisters emotions when she stepped out of line. I never wanted teons in either of those situations! Because it was such a small community, I knew if I ever did something rebellious, it’d get back to Mom & Dad. It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of getting in trouble, but rather, I didnt want to disappoint my parents.
That is exactly what kept me from Rebelling too much. My friends would hitch hike and sneak out…well what would happen if my parents found out…I wasn’t afraid of the punishment..just letting them down. 🙂
I was always a good girl. On the rare occasion that I tried to get away with something, I always got caught. I just didn’t have the knack. On one of those rare incidents when I decided to be naughty, this is what happened. While hanging around town with my high school friends, they persuaded to me to drive a stick shift car. I had never driven a stick shift before, but foolishly agreed. While parked at a stop sign, I miscalculated the brake/clutch thing and started rolling backwards. Well, the car behind me, which I did roll into, just happened to be occupied by the night watchman! Thank goodness the bump was so gentle that no harm was done, but he did get out of his car and come forward. I rolled down the driver’s side window, fear gripping my heart; but all he said was, “I think you better let someone else drive.” Whew!. I got out of the driver’s seat so fast, you’d think I’d never been in it. 🙂
I was a compliant child. My parents argued a lot so I was pretty averse to causing additional arguments. I didn’t spend my teenage years in rebellion, but a fragment of a memory of rebellion remained with me. Now, after pondering it for two days, I realize that my parents had been arguing over something. I got between them and accused my mother of harassing my father. She rewarded me with an open-handed slap across my face, the only time I was ever physically punished. They both died within a few years but oh how I wish I could have talked to them with the wisdom I have now.
Rebel? Not on your life. I didn’t dare get out of line. I grew up in a tiny, tiny town where everyone knew everyone else. My uncle was mayor, my dad chairman of the local school board, a grandfather was the Justice of the Peace and president of the Civitan Club and my aunt was pianist and organist in our church, taught piano lessons, and another aunt worked as the postal clerk. My rebellion was marrying right out of high school and moving away, 53 years ago. 20/20 hindisght affirms that I was, and will always be, a small town girl and that isn’t bad. It’s who I am, even after all these years.
Martha, I know exactly where you ae coming from, in both senses of the expression. I grew up on a farm outside of small town Exira, Iowa. I have lived in seven states and in Europe, but I will always be a farmer’s daughter, and I consdier myself lucky for that.
Bernie and Cindy, I appreciate the reaffirmations. I’ve lived in five different states. I have 2 adult children, 2 adult grandchildren and first -great grand. I can see my small town upbringing in each and every one.
Martha, you surely didn’t have a chance to rebel…but like I found out…there is something to say about the good girls…We seem to have fun anyways.:)