EXERIENCE IS THE BEST TEACHER

Sometimes our own experiences are the best teacher and sometimes someone else’s experiences are good teachers.
When I was in the fifth grade Philip Smith was the class clown. He was clever, cute and could cuss like a sailor. That made him kind of appealing to the girls because that was in the ‘40s and nobody cussed except our dads, so a young boy who had the courage to cuss kind of intrigued us. One day Philip Smith said a cuss word in class loud enough for Ms. Cox, the teacher, to hear. She immediately expelled him from class and sent him to the principal’s office. He eventually came back into class with a smile on his face. We expected him to be holding his hind parts in pain, but he wasn’t. His eyes were twinkling and he had a big smile on his face . We quizzed him on the reason for the smile and he said that the principal had told him something remarkable. He reported to us that the principal had said, “If there’s anybody in this school who gets to cuss it’s me.” That did the trick. Philip never cussed again in earshot of the teacher.
Philip wrote a clever theme one day about the old saying , “Experience is the best teacher.” He ended it with the statement that everybody thought that experience is the best teacher, but he thought that Mrs. Cox was a lot better teacher than experience.
As you can see, Philip had a way with people. I’ve often wondered what happened to him. He’s probably an actor or a comic or maybe a CEO of some big company because he could BS the best of them.
I tell you about Philip now because Gramps and I had an experience on a trip this weekend that caused me to recall Philip and his theme about experience being the best teacher.
Gramps and I were at a hotel/casino having an inexpensive weekend away from home. I don’t gamble and Gramps only plays a few hands of black jack on occasion. He used to have a problem with gambling but he has learned how to listen to that “still small voice” in the midst of his gut and quit before he loses a lot of money. He didn’t practice that wise behavior for the first 50 years of our marriage but he does now.
We were in the elevator at the hotel/casino going from the fifth floor to the first floor with the intention of eating at one of the great restaurants close to the lobby. There were other occupants of the elevator, a young couple who looked to be in their early twenties and a man who looked to be about forty years old.
Gramps asked the young couple if they were having a good time. The handsome young man remarked that he would have had a good time, except that he had lost about $700 gambling. I gasped and said that that would make a good house payment. The young man’s beautiful wife joined the conversation as she affirmed my statement by remarking, “That’s what I told him.”
The young man sadly said, “Or it would make a truck payment and pay the rent.”
This is where experience kicks into the conversation. I said to the good looking couple, “He,” meaning Gramps, “used to have a problem with gambling but he’s learned when to stop shelling out his hard earned money when he’s gambling now.”
The young man said inquisitively to Gramps, “How long did it take you to learn?”
Gramps and I said in chorus, “About fifty years.”
The young man and woman groaned loudly.
Gramps began to tell them about how he learned to stop gambling before he became a loser every time.
The other occupant of the elevator was listening to the conversation without saying a word.
When the elevator door opened, the young man darted out of the elevator onto the floor of the casino with his beautiful wife trailing along behind. However, the other man paused in front of the elevator to hear Gramps tell him how he has learned to stop shelling out money to the gambling demon when he gets a few bucks behind because that’s a good indication that he is not going to win anymore. Then he told the man that on the rare occasion that he gambles, when he gets pretty far ahead of the money he started with, then he quits and pockets the winnings, takes the winnings to me, then plays with his original investment unless he begins to get a few bucks behind, then he quits for the day.
The man listened intently. I could tell he was not only listening to Gramps’ experience but he was processing the information with keen interest. He told Gramps, “Thanks,” as he walked away.
Like Philip Smith said, sometimes experience is the best teacher. Even someone else’s experiences can be a good teacher. That is often called a testimony. We always learn from someone else’s testimony. They give us hope that we can conquer a problem in our lives because someone else has done it.
As we walked away, I said to Gramps, “Well, I guess they think you’re a real slow learner since it took you fifty years to learn that lesson.”
Gramps said, “No, they think I’m a retarded learner for it to have taken fifty years to learn that.”
I know that couple will think about Gramps and maybe they will decide that fifty years is too long to wait, and maybe the young man will stop gambling altogether.
I do believe that the other man will heed the wise words that Gramps told him and he will wisely monitor his gambling, like Gramps does, before he becomes a big loser. Then when he begins winning, I think that he will take the sizeable winnings to his wife for safe keeping. It’s certainly worked for us.
Maybe Gramps’ experience will be a good teacher for those three people since Philip Smith’s teacher Mrs. Cox isn‘t here to teach that valuable lesson. The experience of Gramps can certainly be the best teacher in this instance.

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