My two cents on...the David and Goliath principle:

When I was a little girl, my dad used to tell me about David and Goliath.  He was the little boy who saved his people by defeating the giant when he hit him in the forehead with a rock slung perfectly from his slingshot.  I loved that story because I was always the little kid.  I wasn't scrawny, but I was always "vertically challenged" my dad would say.  I wanted a slingshot like David's.  I wanted to save the world with my mad slinging skills.  It didn't matter that I had terrible eyesight, couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a watermelon if I tried, and couldn't throw farther than three feet in front of wherever I was standing.  I had always dreamed of one day being the little girl who did big things, just because no one thought I could.


I look around and see so many Davids in my every day life.  I wish I could show them how capable they are of knocking their Goliath to the ground if they would just get the courage to do so.  The other day, at my daughter's school (the one with all the moms who think they are just so much better than I am because they drive fancy cars and don't have to work because their husbands make enough money for them to buy whatever they want, whenever they want) I witnessed a mom walk through the line of other moms who were waiting patiently to pick up their children, grab her daughter, and exit the line.  No one said a word to her, and not one teacher or faculty member stood up for all the moms who had been standing in the heat for 20 minutes waiting for their kids, while this..."you can imagine what I WANT to call her"...just waltzed up ahead of everyone and got her little snobby ass brat kid (who, by the way is also a total Goliath herself, especially to my daughter) because God forbid she stand in the heat and melt her face full of $800 Neiman Marcus makeup or fade her zebra striped dye job (that looks ridiculous by the way).  They don't say anything because this family donates a lot of money to the school.  So that entitles her to do whatever she wants and step all over the hard working families that do the best they can and just pay tuition and fees, and pay for uniforms, and books, and field trips, and parties, and every other unforeseen, over the top expense involved in sending your kid to private school?  I was waiting in the car line, witnessing all of this take place, and believe me when I tell you, if I would have had a rock (or even a slightly round object) and a rubber band, she would have gone down...down to China town!  I would have so fulfilled my David and Goliath fantasy that day.


There are David sized companies too.  You know the ones.  They do all they can to get out there in the business world, and bring their product or service to their customers, but they just get stomped on by the Goliaths all around them.  I think of Starbucks here, just because they're an easy target.  Sorry Starbucks, I love your Cinnamon Dulce lattes, your Passion tea and your Caramel Brulee at Christmas time, but I have to throw you under the bus here.  I mean, come on, $5 for a half-caf, mocha-choca latte, machiato frappa-tina, extra hot, upside down?  While that does sound totally delicious, that doesn't leave much of a market for the little guys does it?  Who can compete?  Who even knows what in the heck that even is?!  If I wanted to open up a coffee shop and say, "I can make you what Starbucks can, but it will be a dollar cheaper", you'd totally come...but I'd have no clue how to make you what Starbucks makes.  They've stomped all over my dreams of being a burro.  Or burrista.  Or whatever.  All I can offer you is a coffee.  Black, or white, or in between a little.  I could make up fancy names for my sizes...would you like a teeny weeny, a piddley middley, or a large Marge?  Other than that, I've got no edge, no cool trendy ideas that haven't already been swooped up by the all too mighty, mega-giant Goliath that is Starbucks.  There is no David alive that can take down that beast...or is there?


Now I'll tell you kids a little bedtime story of my own.  One that is based on true events, and even inspired this very blog.  Get tucked in, get your jammies on, make sure you go potty and brush your teeth.  No, go brush them again because your breath still stinks, so you obviously didn't do it right the first time.  Ok, remember how I said I've always wanted to be a David of my own?  Well I tried:  Once upon a time, four friends decided to go to a concert.  They took a road trip to a city far, far away in their chariots of blue (NOT purple) and black.  Along the way they stopped for a quick stately meal, to energize their bodies for the long journey and the excitement of the evening ahead.  The chariots departed from the fine establishment and carried on toward their destination.  Upon arriving, one of the friends had to make a stop at the gentlemen's room, so the others waited patiently.  They then made their way to their desired spot amongst the crowd, awaiting the arrival of the band they had driven all that way to see.  As the time passed, they shared stories with each other and the many people they met around them.  Over an hour passed while they waited before there was any indication that the time was finally nearing.  As the lights went down, and the cheering began, the four friends reached for their cameras, and began to feel the excitement.  Finally!  They were having a great time.  They had waited in that spot for a reason.  None of them were of an exceptionally tall stature, and this spot was perfectly situated to give them the best view of the stage and the band.  Now, you would think that after all this time, being that the show was nearing the end, when all the "good songs" were coming on, that everyone would just stay put.  Well not this Goliath.  All of the sudden, this large man, and his two large women friends came barreling into our four friends.  This man was easily 7 feet tall.  He was almost 400 lbs and was pure muscle.  He had scary gray eyes behind thick glasses that made them larger than they were in real life.  He had a scowl on his face that would have scared any child behind their mother's apron, and he gritted his teeth together as he pushed by.  His two girlfriends were tall, and blonde.  They were certainly the high maintenance, well dressed, manicured and obnoxious girls that the two girls among our four friends were not.  Our two girls were brunettes, down to earth, intelligent, witty and far more into things in the real world than into themselves.  Well, after this giant and his bimbos shoved into our friends, and stood right in front of them, one of the girls, who was the smallest of our friends at only 5 feet tall, politely asked the ogre if he was planning on standing right in front of all of them, after they had been standing there for over two hours.  He cursed at her and said "yes", and then turned around.  This enraged the little girl, who decided that this was her David moment.  She shoved her way into the crowd, and pressed into the giant and his bimbos.  She pushed, with the help of the other girl in the friend squad, a small opening for them to stand in so they could see once again.  From this moment, a small battle of elbows and nasty words flew back and forth between the littlest friend and the biggest bimbo, but it wasn't until she started dancing like a pole dancer (at a concert that was clearly NOT a pole dancing type concert to begin with, at a venue that was NOT a place to shove people out of the way to begin with), and the giant elbowed the little friend in the nose that things got really ugly.  The littlest friend squared up against Goliath, and will be known now as David.  Goliath squared up against her in return.  Many words were exchanged  (they aren't PG).  The other two friends that were the husband and boyfriend of the girls stepped in for some much needed valiantry.  More words were exchanged (still not PG).  David lunged.  Goliath backed down.  No sling shot was needed.

What's the moral of the story boys and girls?  Anyone can be a David.  You don't even need a slingshot.  Although, I still think I'm gonna buy one, just in case I see that zebra striped, tranny-faced mom again at school.  All you have to do is stand up for yourself and don't back down.  Maybe don't be as over zealous as our tiny friend (aka me) in our bedtime story, but you get the picture.  You don't have to be 7 feet tall to be a jerk either though, so remember that too.  You can also be a blonde bimbo who pole dances at local venue alternative rock shows and acts like a tool.  Just saying.