Remember Fonzie from Happy Days? He could start a jukebox with one tap, he battled aliens, and even jumped over a shark. But the one thing the Fonz had difficulty with was admitting he was wrong. He couldn’t even say I was wrong.
Although I’m not cool like Fonzie I do share his one foible. I have much difficulty admitting my erroneous. I call this condition The Fonzie Syndrome, or FS for short.
I think this is a common condition among the human race. The problem with me being afflicted with FS is that I’m wrong all the time. I’m like a wrong machine-gun rat-a-tat-tating B.S. bullets from an endless action hero clip.
Just the other day the wife and I got into a minor spat and as usual I was on the loosing end of the verbal fisticuffs. As a peace offering my wife just wanted me to admit my wrongness.
Those two little words — I’m wrong — were like acid in my mouth. I’m wr … wr … wron … wrong. It was hard to even write them.
Maybe there is a pill I could take or tapes I could listen to. I suppose just admitting I have FS is a good start.
Say it with me people – My name is _____ and I’m a Fonz.
Hey, Guy! I’m formerly of Frederick, MD Online. Regards from Sparks, Nevada!
I have the Fonzie Syndrome often, and it takes a while for my ego to deflate sufficiently so I can admit, “My name is Cyg, and I’m a F-f-f-fffff….”
I love the simile of B.S. bullets, but I think I perfected them first.
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