Like Peeing on a Bicycle

Our little puppy girl, Molly, had an accident last night.

"She's been dry for so long I thought she'd forgotten how to do it," my wife said, slightly sullen.

"Oh, no-- she's all over that," I replied, changing into pajamas at 7:37pm on a Friday night ('cause that's how we roll, 'Cuz).

"Like riding a bicycle," Mrs. Apron sighed.

"No, no," I chimed in unhelpfully, "like peeing on a bicycle."

Setbacks suck-- there's just no doubt about it. Imagine recovering from surgery, re-learning how to walk. Taking baby steps, then grown-up steps, then strides, and then, one day, you just... fall down. Imagine the pain-- the hurt. The embarrassment. The fear of complete and abject failure.

It's real.

What if this is one of those dogs that simply cannot be potty-trained? What if we are going to spend the rest of our natural lives setting the timer on the oven, taking her out every three-and-a-half hours, and watching her like a hawk when she's "loaded."

She's loaded. She's a fricking dog, for Christ's sake. And, like a Borderline in a psych hospital: she runs the show.

I was trying to think of a time in my life where I had suffered a marked setback, so that I could make a pointed comparison between myself and the peeing dog, but I couldn't think of one. Which, I guess, is good. Of course, if you are of the mindset that setbacks make you stronger and braver and tougher and more plastinated, then maybe it's not so good. Maybe because I'm caucasian and bespectacled and I tuck in my shirts and have a M.A.Ed. and a Volvo, I'm not going to have too many setbacks. Maybe I'm genetically altered to have some sort of forward trajectory-- like a mini jet propeller up my tuchus.

More likely, though, I'm not.

No doubt a time will come in my life where I will fall on my face on my way to achieving a goal. I've had fewer setbacks than I've had out-and-out failures. I've either achieved things, or I haven't. I either get the lead, or nothing. One book published, the other, um, not. One play produced, the others, um, not. One girl wife, the others, um, not. I either do it, or, um, not. And maybe that says something indicative about my personality. Maybe I'm doomed to succeed, or preordained to fail, or both, but I have yet to embark on a long-range goal where there have been roadblocks and hurdles and impasses that I have had to negotiate, subvert, challenge, or dust myself off and live to fight again the next day.

There's been no re-grouping for me. No one step forward and two steps back.

One thing I guess is for sure, and that is that life is a lot like peeing on a bicycle: it's uncomfortable, a little bit dangerous, and it only feels good for a very short time.