Here in my car....

My brother has always taken things to the extreme. It's his nature, his personality, his way. I don't fault him for it, and actually am somewhat grateful for his deliberate bullying and forcefulness. In retrospect, he has played an important role in my personal evolution.

I was only ten years old when he made it his mission to teach me to swim and drive a stick shift in the same day. It was Memorial Day - 1982, and I was invited to Shasta Lake for a day of fun. Little did I know what was in store for me that day though.

I remember the stereo was blaring Gary Numan's "Cars" as the five of us packed in the tiny Toyota Corona. I was so happy that my big brother caved into my continuous badgering about going to the lake with them. My brother and his friends started drinking the moment we hit the freeway -- despite his promise to mom to be responsible. When we finally arrived to Shasta Lake, I headed straight to the shore to commence the perfect dog paddle.

I kept to myself for most the afternoon as my brother and his entourage were focused on throwing back as much Blue Ribbon as humanly possible. During one of his "jump in the lake to cool off " trips, he yelled at me to swim the right way. I had been in water all my life but never learned how to 'swim the right way'. I remember screaming "Leave me alone!"

And, as soon as the words rolled off my tongue, I knew I shouldn't have said anything. He swam as fast as a shark towards my direction. I was scared and tried to paddle away. It didn't work.

It was at that moment that my brother picked me up and took me to a part of the lake where I couldn't touch. He told me "You're going to swim from here to the shore until you get it right." I panicked and knew there was no way out so I had to listen and try my best even though I was petrified. So, there we were for what seemed like hours with me crying and him bullying me into learning to swim. Each time I broke out the infamous dog paddle, he would pick me up and throw me in the deep again. By the end of it, I felt accomplished and learned to swim.

He finally left me alone. I was relieved. That was until the car ride home.

We were headed north on Interstate 5 when my brother unexpectedly exited the freeway. He quickly got out of the driver's seat and told me it was my turn. I pleaded with him to not make me take the wheel. It didn't work as usual. Reluctantly, I sat down with tear filled eyes as his friends all laughed. After a brief lesson on how to shift gears and me stalling the car countless times, I was forced to get back on the freeway.

As I pulled towards the on-ramp, my brother started playing "Cars" again. I drove all the way home that day even pulling into my parent's driveway without them seeing me behind the steering wheel. It was the beginning of a phase in my life which would lead me to stealing my parents and friends' parents cars for joyrides. Three years later, my mom caught me driving without a license in a friend's car while she was grocery shopping in town.

I blamed it on my brother which didn't ease the restriction my mom put on me. I was in major trouble and spent most of the summer trapped in my bedroom. But, my big brother sure got an earful when mom asked him about that Memorial Day at the lake a couple years prior. Each time I hear "Cars", it reminds me of that holiday and my brother--the bully, my teacher.