Never let your alligator mouth write a check your hummingbird ass can’t cash.
(More) Words of wisdom from my mother
If anyone is an expert on lying, it is my mother. Not because she is a raging liar or telling the truth is a foreign concept to here. She’s an expert because she’s been informally studying liars and lying for so long. A review of her resume indicates qualifications beyond most mothers of her generation or any generation for that matter. She has been married three times, each to a man at some stage of alcoholism. There was some cheating and what not going on as well and I don’t think any of them were at all any good with money. She worked with criminals on probation or parole for more than 30 years. And probably most notably, she raised two boys.
My brother and I couldn’t be more opposite of each other if one of us had been swapped at birth with a child from a radically different family. Of course I was a fantastic child who never did anything wrong. (Which is complete and utter bullshit.) I did plenty wrong and I lied about almost all of it. There’s probably a lot of stuff I did my mother still doesn’t know about. Unless I spill the beans in some off-color tell-all memoir later in life, I’m not planning on telling her. On the flip side, I am sure there is plenty of stuff she knows I did and lied about but never said anything. This will become more apparent as you continue on.
My brother on the other hand can do nothing right. I’m sure my mother would tell you that’s not true but at the time I am writing this, I cannot think of anything he has done that has been “right”. I will admit, he is effective at procreation, but until one of them turns out to be a saint, I’m not putting that in the “plus” column. I do promise, however, that if I think of something, I will make a note of it and add it in as a footnote below.
He’s been a headache for my mom. He was incarcerated for almost everything except violent and white collar crimes. I only say those two because a) he hasn’t had a white collar anything since he got too old for my mother to bathe and b) if he got involved in anything violent, he would most certainly have had his ass kicked and would have been the victim rather than the perpetrator. The bad thing is, like most criminals, he’s not very good at it. Given mom’s chosen profession, my brother’s hi-jinks were even more disreputable on the family. Granted, he comes by it naturally; my father was no angel, but the kid had choices and plenty of opportunities.
The difference between my brother and I was the skill with which we lied. Long before I knew what rhetoric was, I employed it like a weapon. I credit my mother’s second husband for any ability of lying or being sneaky I possess. By paying attention to the questions he would ask and his behavioral routines, I learned not only how and what to do to not get caught, but also how much and when to speak to stay out of trouble. I think mom knew most of the time when I had gotten over on him but she never said anything. Especially near the end of their marriage, I don’t think she cared much and was probably rooting for me.
My brother never learned how to manipulate the truth (or people) like I did. And what he did learn, he didn’t apply to positive outcomes. We are both charming people but I use my powers for good — he uses his for dope. Once during an therapy session (I’m pretty sure it was his), the shrink asked me if I could teach him how to get around or deal with our step-father. She wanted me to teach him the tricks I had learned for my own survival. My immediate answer was “no”. I explained (granted I think I must have been about 12 or 13) that it wasn’t something I could teach, I just knew how to do it. It wasn’t that I was trying to be a dick and keep my secrets to myself; it was that my brother didn’t have the base skill to use these tricks successfully nor did he have the patience to learn. You couldn’t tell him anything because he already knew it all — and still does, I’m sure.
But manipulating my step-father wasn’t always about lying. Sometimes it was just a matter of being able to prove what you were saying. I believe that is true in most things these days. Think about it like this: a criminal case is not so much about guilt or innocence as much as it is who has presented the more plausible, the more believable, argument. Given all the evidence you have and the emphatic testimonies of the parties involved, whodunnit? Take something as simple as a brotherly slug in the arm; Adam (that’s my brother) would do it when others were around and could see him do it or he’d leave a visible welt. I, on the other hand, would often smack him in the back of the head out of earshot and sight of anyone that would care.
I even distinctly recall him getting in trouble once because he he hit me in front of my mother. She immediately sent him to his room and grounded him. Before storming off, he stomped his foot and angrily shouted, “I don’t understand why every time I hit him I get in trouble but he never gets in trouble when he hits me!”
To which my mother snappily replied, “Because he’s smart enough not to do it in front of me!”
Another way to look at lying is that it’s like over-promising but under-delivering. Again, it goes back to the idea of not putting anything out there you can’t back up, but it can fit so many scenarios. If you aren’t willing to do any extra work at your job, don’t tell your boss or coworkers that you’ll take on a new project. Similarly, if you promise a client that your team can do whatever the client wants, you better be sure they actually can. If you get drunk in a bar and hit on some guy’s girlfriend (or boyfriend) and he threatens to kick your ass if you don’t back down, either clam up and walk away or, if you do choose to stay and fight, be prepared (and able) to open a serious can of whoop-ass. Because if you don’t, not only will you not get the girl (or boy), but you will also be sore in the morning and not be able to go back to that bar again. (Which is too bad really because they had a great selection of local beers on tap.)
What all that boils down to is this, a simple warning from my mother:
“Don’t let your alligator mouth write a check your hummingbird ass can’t cash.” In other words, shooting off at the mouth before you have thought about what you’re going to say is likely to get you in trouble. And when it comes time to pay the piper, if you can’t back up your statements, you’re going to get your ass beat.
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