Don't fight with flies
By Mike Silva
Like my "guy thing" post I posted, the following is another column I wrote for the Houstonian back at SHSU.
Another good read. Enjoy.
Life wouldn't be life without having to overcome daily obstacles. I like to believe these challenges present a way to test how we respond to adversity, whether successful or unsuccessful, whilst teaching us some kind of lesson.
In those instances where we win, we leave with the satisfaction that victory gives us. But in the cases where we lose, we can still gain a lot from our experiences, which can shape our outlook on future endeavors.
My latest encounter of this kind presented itself to me in the oddest form: an antagonizing, nasty instigator, better known as the common "house-fly".
For the past couple of days, this pest has done everything in its power to bug me, no pun intended.
When I'm making something to eat, it hovers around my fixings like kids with their hands in the cookie jar before dinner. When I watch TV, it floats on the screen, distracting me while hindering my viewing pleasure. Even when I'm on my computer, doing homework, it buzzes in my face or rests on my shoulder, almost like a nosey younger sibling, curiously observing my every move.
Before long, I decided that this insect had worn out its welcome. After a few seconds of deep thought, I had made up my mind: the fly had to go.
I began to put together the plans of exterminating the fly and pondered my approach. Do I use my cunning to rid of it strategically, or do I go the crazed route and attack it head on? I decided the latter was the better choice.
My first move was to grab the heaviest thing near me, swing it at the bug and batter it into oblivion. My technique was probably skewed, but perhaps my tool was the problem. The pillow I swung around like a fool did nothing but provoke the fly. It became aware of my scheme and war was amongst us.
Considering I failed miserably with my scrappy take, I chose to move on to more tactical methods. Surely I could outsmart this fly.
The first step was to lure it in. I set out a piece of bologna that I microwaved to release an aroma to attract my adversary. I waited near my trap with the only projectile spray can I had: a bottle of Pledge. Yes, the hardcore dust repellant.
Needless to say, the fly was wise to my feeble strategy and so I failed once again. I felt like Schwartzenegger in Predator. I was hopeless, and hence decided to quit. I turned the TV on, cut off the lights, and watched some ESPN.
Noticing my somber demeanor, the fly chose to rub it in. This insect flew back and forth onto the screen, almost inviting me to come at it again. There was no doubt, it was gloating, and laughing at me.
Defeated, I turned off the tube and hit the shower. I closed the door, only to see that I had a guest. Yes, the fly had indeed followed me into the restroom to add insult to injury.
I couldn't take it. I refused to embrace the fate of losing. In a rage, I grabbed a sock and swatted the insect out of the air. It landed in my sink. I realized I had an opportunity and I needed to seize it.
I proceeded to turn on the water, flushing it into the abyss. I felt immense relief, as if weight had been lifted off of me. All because of a fly.
After my shower, I went to my room to sleep. As I turned off the light, and lay my head down, I heard something. In my peripherals, I became aware of an astonishing fact: the fly did not die. I couldn't believe it. I refused to believe it. But then it hit me.
I was not supposed to defeat this bug. This incident was not destined to go in my favor. And so I realized, I had ultimately lost this battle. But I laughed. I had to. I got completely worked up and bent out of shape over a fly.
The craziest part is that if even for a mere moment, it humbled me. Like my most recent incident with the fly, I realized that you can't always have success, and you should learn from your losses. And so I accepted defeat.
This fly taught me something. The most ridiculous, trivial incident reiterated the classic idiom: you can't win them all.