Every child has that one song that defined their approach to the world. For some it was a golden oldie and for others it was the theme song of Mickey Mouse Club House. For me, as embarrassed as I am to admit this, the most memorable song from my childhood, comes from the Disney classic The King and I  . A simple song called Whistle a happy tune. 

Specifically the line, “you may be as brave as you make believe you are…” , was the most memorable and defining part of my childhood.

Until yesterday, I never really needed to pretend to be brave but the line has always stuck in the back of my mind. I’ve never been one to opt for the flight reaction but not really one to fight either. I’m a reasoner. I want to know the whole story and find a solution. Take my time to analyse the problem and solve the problem.

I’ve faked a bit of confidence, of course, but the trick with confidence is you fake it a few times and then you start to believe it and then you soon enough you feel that confident. Yesterday, however, in the middle of an attempted hijacking, my acting skills were put to the test.

Perhaps, it was the shock of the situation or the fact that it had already been a long day, but for some reason panic never gripped me in it’s suffocating arms. Not when my dad suddenly switched the car off, nor when I realised there was a gun pointed at us and not  even when the guy tried to yank my (thankfully, locked) door. Panic was as absent as the school bad boy on the last day of the year.

When you’re stuck in a tiny car, gun pointed at you, four guys yelling at you to give them your cell phones and get out of the car, hands forcing their way into the open drivers window and people trying to open locked doors well my usual logical and calmly reasoning reaction is pretty much impossible.

Basically we were stuck in the usual peak hour bumper to bumper traffic and pretty much “boxed in” at a red light, even if you picked the flight reaction there’s no where to go. I sat there in a state of serene calm, head tilted to the side eyeing the man in his overly bulky clothes and double hoodie while he pointed the matte black gun at me. Now most people would have panicked by this point but after a long day at work, even with my heart racing, all I was thinking was “not today buddy, not today.” I suppose, that much like in the movie when she “whistled a happy song” to feign her bravery, I faked my  bravery with that sarcastic quip and managed to stay calm.

In my strange moment calm, I poked my chin out and chucked my shoulders back while scowling at the guy closest to me as my dad shouted and swore the two on his side of the car. Together (with some rather logical and clever maneuvering) we managed to draw enough attention and put up enough of a fight to make the hijackers nervous and edgy long enough for the robot to change and traffic to move so we could leave unharmed.

Looking back, I guess pretending to be brave is the same as feigning confidence. No one else knows it’s faked besides you and once you faked it for a few minutes you start feeling brave and stop faking the feeling. At some point, you begin to believe your own act.

Without the false bravery, I would not have defiantly stared the man down nor calmly ensured my phone was properly concealed. I definitely could not imagine myself comically thinking, “Not today, buddy, not today.” while staring down the barrel of a gun.

So, in conclusion, I have decided that I shall always take the advice from The King And I.

Whenever I feel afraid

I hold my head erect

And whistle a happy tune

So no one will suspect

I’m afraid.

 

While shivering in my shoes

I strike a careless pose

And whistle a happy tune

And no one ever knows

I’m afraid.

Whistling a happy tune,

Brokebella