They Call Me Little Bull

I am not a fighter. As a matter of fact, I pretty much avoid confrontation at all costs if I can. But there have been some times throughout my life where confrontation has found me. Since my stories are mostly about adventures in travel, you may find the beginning of this story a bit confusing. But hang on-it ends up being about travel. And sometimes adventure happens close to home.

I carried the nickname “Little Bull” for most of my junior high and high school years. I acquired this nickname from a situation involving confrontation. My friend, Michele, and I have been friends since the fifth grade when I moved into her town. Michele was always the popular one. Everyone wanted to be her friend, and everyone wanted to be like her. She was tall, blond, pretty, and all of the boys liked her. Me? Not even close.

I have always wondered why she rode her bike to my house that first week after I started in my new school, but we have remained friends since then.

Michele had the great Farrah Fawcett hair. No matter how hard I tried, I could not make my head full of curls do that.

Here we are last summer. Some things never change…..

The “Little Bull” incident happened when we were in the sixth grade. We were hanging out in front of the school one day after school. This eighth grade boy named David (I can still sort of see him in my mind, and that was a LONG time ago), had a book with a dirty word in it. This may not seem like a big deal now, but in the 1970’s, having possession of a book with a dirty word made you pretty cool. He showed the page with the dirty word to Michele, and then he showed it to our friend, Julie, who was cool in a tough kind of way. Then it was my turn. I tried to look at the book, but for some reason, he would not show me the word. I can’t remember if I tried to grab the book from him, or if I said something mean to him, but the next thing I knew, he slapped me across the face. This not only surprised me, it made me furious. I went after him with everything I had. He was probably a foot taller than me, and much stronger. When I picture it in my mind, I imagine it looked like a scene from The Three Stooges, where one stooge was holding the other at arm’s length and the other stooge was kicking and swinging, but not able to make contact. He laughed and said, “Look. She looks just like a little bull.” In his defense, that is probably exactly what I looked like. Michele and Julie found the nickname amusing, and decided that everyone else needed to know the name as well. I was “Little Bull,” “Bull,” or just “LB” for years after that. I received t-shirts and sweatshirts with the name for birthday gifts from friends. I’m pretty sure if I would run into people I haven’t seen in 30 years, they would call me “Little Bull.”

Fast forward about 25 years. I decided to take my kids to the beach at Rend Lake, a lake about 20 miles from our house.

My two daughters, Ally and Sarah, each brought a friend. My son, Ryan, was outnumbered four to one that day. But he didn’t mind. He was used to it. He was enough boy to watch on his own-he always kept me on my toes. I didn’t get any pictures that day, but here are pictures of the kids at the age of the story.

Anyway, it was a hot summer day, and I thought some swimming and a picnic lunch sounded like a great idea. We arrived at the beach and the kids ran to the water. I claimed a spot on the beach and started putting out chairs and towels. There were two women and a little boy not too far from where we were. One of the women, with a can of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, was talking very loudly, using a certain curse word frequently. I know these days we hear it all of the time, but in the 90’s, this word was not thrown around as much as it is now, so it was very noticeable that day. I guess I offended her by looking at her, because she started yelling at me, in a three pack of cigarettes a day sort of way, “What are you looking at, you heifer?! Come on over here, you heifer!” Now this woman probably outweighed me by about 100 pounds, but I thought I had a pretty good chance, since it appeared she had already worked her way through at least one six pack of beer and a pack of cigarettes. I wasn’t so sure about the other woman. She was younger and looked like she was handling her liquor a little better than the older lady. She may have been more of a challenge. I decided to pass. My response was to move a little further away and just try to ignore them. However, they were not ready to leave me alone. They repeatedly walked across the sand in front of me, staring me down, and the older woman would occasionally yell something at me. I just ignored them. My kids were asking, “Mommy, why is that lady yelling at you?” The only response I could come up with was, “Because she is an idiot.” I probably missed an important teaching moment, but at the time, I was too angry to do anything else. They finally left me alone, and a little later, they sent the little boy over to ask if he could play with the sand toys we had brought. That seemed weird to me, but he was just a little kid, so I let him play with the toys. A little later, we went up to the picnic tables located between the parking lot and the beach to have our picnic.

A few minutes after we started eating, a car pulled up, parked in the spot next to our table, and cranked up some music containing multiple curse words. I assumed these were friends of the women on the beach. I was right, because a few minutes later, the woman joined them at the car. I decided to just pack up our things and leave. So much for our wonderful day at the beach.

Several years later, we took a vacation to Florida. Sarah had a dance competition in Jacksonville, Florida, so we planned a vacation around the competition.

After the competition, we drove down to Sea World for a day. I couldn’t find any pictures for this vacation either. I guess when people want to fight me, it makes me forget about taking pictures.

Ally was on crutches due to a knee problem at the time. I knew she could not hop through Sea World all day on crutches, so I needed to rent a wheelchair for her. I told the kids to stay with Greg while I went over to rent the wheelchair. As I was standing in front of the rental place, looking at the sign with the options and prices, someone came up and stood beside me. For some reason, I assumed it was Sarah. I lightly touched her arm and told her to go back and sit with her dad. I immediately heard, “Don’t you touch me.” In surprise, I turned to look and discovered this lady standing next to me, looking angry. I immediately apologized, saying, “Oh! I’m sorry. I thought you were my daughter.” Her response was, “Don’t you ever touch me.” I responded with, “I’m sorry! I thought you were my daughter!” She replied, ” Don’t you ever touch me. I don’t like people touching me.” I thought it was time to move on, so I walked away and got in line for the wheelchair. This lady followed me, got in line behind me, and continued to say, “Don’t you ever touch me.” Now other people were looking at us, probably thinking I was some pervert who had tried to grope this lady. I said through clenched teeth, “I SAID I thought you were my daughter, and I SAID I was sorry.” Greg walked up to see what the commotion was about. He asked, “What is going on?” This lady responded with, “Don’t you threaten me! You’re threatening me!” I didn’t really think the words “what is going on?” were threatening, but then again, I don’t think I’m at the same level of crazy. I told Greg to go back and sit down, because his presence was freaking this lady out. I asked the man next to me to trade places with me in the line, so I was no longer standing next to this lady. I rented my wheelchair and got out of there. We did see that lady one more time while we were in the park. She was yelling at her kids. Yelling seemed to be her preferred mode of communication. But we did have a really good time at Sea World.

Tips:

1. Seeing a dirty word in a book is not really worth acquiring a nickname for the rest of your life.
2. I would recommend that if you are a small sixth grade girl, you don’t attempt to fight a tall eighth grade boy. It will not go well for you.
3. Rend Lake is a large man-made lake in Southern Illinois. They have some nice campgrounds. There is a resort and there are cabins to rent. Activities at Rend Lake and nearby include camping, hiking, biking, fishing, swimming, and picnicking. There is a golf course nearby. You can go horseback riding, boating and water skiing. There are some nice playgrounds as well. You can find more information about Rend Lake at http://www.rendlake.com and http://www.recreation.gov.
4. If a person who is significantly bigger than you tries to fight you, give them a six pack of beer and a pack of cigarettes. It evens the odds.
5. Always look at the owner of an arm before you touch it.
6. If someone tries to fight you, take a picture. It gives you material for a story, and it may make them stop. Or they may beat you up because you took their picture. It could go either way.