61. The Dirty Dirt Bike Debacle
It wasn’t bad because the gift was that bad, but more because of the context of it. My little brother is the definition of a spoiled jerk. He has been his entire life. One year, when I was maybe 13 or 14 and he was eight or nine, we both asked for dirt bikes for Christmas. I had several friends who went out with their dads on the weekend to the track or out to the desert and I wanted my own bike to go with them.
I wasn’t necessarily expecting a dirt bike, but I asked for one anyway. Christmas day comes, little brother, who didn’t want a dirt bike half as bad as I did, got a brand new Kawasaki KX65 dirt bike. I got a $40 remote control dirt bike…he also got the same remote control dirt bike. I remember coming out to the living room that morning and seeing his dirt bike and almost crying.
I thought they were playing a joke on me so much to the point that I went and checked the garage and side yard to see if there was another dirt bike. I rode his bike more than he did as he really never had much interest, but it was way too small for me so it wasn’t very useful for me either other than cruising it around the neighborhood once in a while, the thing sat with hardly any hours on it for years and years before my parents basically gave it away.