I have recently read Che Guevara’s The Motorcycle Diaries and the one thing that really affected me was his unbridled honesty as he spoke his opinions freely to everyone no matter what status they held in life.
I must admit I am not always the most honest person. I often tell people what they want to hear, and I’ll easily side step the truth to avoid confrontational or uncomfortable situations. However, upon reading Mr. Guevara’s book, I decided to live my life as honestly as I could.
I decided best to begin by undoing the lies of my past, so I promptly picked up my phone and called my ex-girlfriend. I said, "Hi, this is Matt, and I want to come clean for your sake and mine. You give very toothy blowjobs, and you did look fat in that dress. Come to think of it, you looked fat in all dresses. Furthermore, one Christmas morning while you slept, I had sex with your sister in the bathroom."
To my dismay, I said all this to an elderly Russian woman with caller ID. For legal reasons, I can't go into this situation any further.
Regardless of the lawsuit and the crying old Russian woman, I made a bold step in the growth of me, Matt Dwyer.
The next step on my journey for truth led me to the home of New Jersey rocker, Jon Bon Jovi. A few years earlier I wound up at a dinner party with Bon Jovi, and I said to him, “I have always been a big fan of your music, and my sister is going to die when she finds out I met you.” This, of course, was another lie I felt compelled to correct.
I arrived at Mr. Bon Jovi's house early on a Sunday morning just in time to catch him strolling down his driveway to pick up the morning paper. I called out from his gate, "Excuse me, Mr. Jovi." He squinted his eyes to see who was calling out his name. "I met you a couple years ago through my good friend...(I can’t mention my friend’s name for he is very famous and I don’t name drop, but let your mind wander on that one because he’s huge.)
Jon remembered me and asked, “What are you doing at my gate?”
I said, "I'm sorry. I happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.” I stopped myself drew a big breath and then continued, “Actually that's not true. I specifically came here to tell you that three years ago when we met I lied to you, and I would like to clear that up right here and now."
Jon looked concerned. "Great. Thanks."
“I told you I was a big fan and that my sister would be jealous I was having dinner with you. Well, I think your music sucks, and I don’t have a sister.”
Shocked, Bon Jovi dropped his paper. “You don’t like my music?” he asked, as a storm of tears welled up in his eyes. “No sir, I don’t.”
Bon Jovi fell to his knees and started crying uncontrollably. For a brief second I thought about consoling him but then noticed his burly security guards running towards me and ran.
My next exercise in honesty came spur of the moment as I stumbled home from my favorite bar in east L.A. I noticed a group of young, shaved-headed Mexicans enjoying a joint. My first instinct was to slowly cross to the other side of the street, but I decided to approach the four Latin gentlemen.
"Hola," I said. "I just want you four Mexicans to know that I was going to cross the street to avoid walking past you for fear you may mug me, but I decided to come up to you and become your friend for we all live in the same neighborhood and we are all united by the greatness of L.A." They swiftly beat the shit out of me and stole everything including my Hanes boxer briefs.
So what do we learn from all of this? That honesty is a long and painful road, but it’s better to take a few lumps on the head and have your soul and mind clear, free, and filled with truth.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I never read The Motorcycle Diaries. I rented it two nights ago and fell asleep because of the subtitles.