I was a newlywed at the time. That should explain a lot. Also, I had grown up doing dangerous things in a world that hadn't yet caught the "safety addiction."

For instance, when I was a kid it was considered quite normal to be carted around town in the back of a pickup truck, ride in cars without seat belts, hold your baby on your lap in the front seat (our car had baby-bite marks in the vinyl door panel to prove it!), play with lawn darts, ride three wheeler ATVs, mow your lawn without hearing protection, sit in a pinch-your-fingers metal high chair, burn leaded gasoline, ride in the back window of a car, pour your used motor oil out at the end of your driveway, siphon gas with a garden hose, burn your trash in a barrel in your yard, use lead paint, attend schools featuring asbestos pipes, paint a car in your garage without OSHA approval, skateboard without pads, get spanked with Dad's belt, walk to school (both ways, up hill, in the snow), sit two inches from the television, drink water from the tap, and ride a bike without a helmet.

As I write this, some of these are cracking me up. Others seem quite trivial. The least of these, at least at the time of my "newlyweddedness," was the bike helmet one. I just didn't get it. I'd raced motocross, off-roaded Jeeps and trucks, jet-skied the waves of the Great Lakes, and any number of moderately risky things. Of course, with few exceptions, I'd participated in these activities while adorning the proper safety equipment. I'd even done a fair bit of mountain biking and had, of course, worn a helmet. But riding a bike around a paved neighborhood? Why in the world would I need a helmet for that?

Married less than a year, we had just moved into our first official home. The sunny summer afternoon beckoned us outside and we pulled our bikes from amongst the stacks of boxes yet to be unpacked. I was about to open the garage door when my wife said, "Aren't you going to put on your helmet?"

"What?" I said, incredulous. Surely she was joking.

"Come on. Just wear it. It's about safety."

"Safety? Are you kidding me? We're going for a little leisurely ride on flat, paved streets! I've never worn a helmet when biking, ever! Only on tough trails and stuff."

"Honey," she reasoned, "just wear it. It won't hurt to be safe, and besides, it'll set a good example for the neighborhood kids."

"Neighborhood kids? You've got to be kidding me! They aren't our kids! And besides, they won't even notice a couple of adults casually riding by on their bikes. No way!"

Showing the grace her husband would (hopefully) someday learn, she let it drop. We raised the garage door and rode out onto our short little driveway. We couldn't have made it ten feet when the three-year-old neighbor girl loudly proclaimed, "Hey! Daddy! How come HE doesn't have to wear HIS helmet!?"

I couldn't believe my ears. How my wife kept from saying "I told you so" is beyond me. 

No matter who you are, where you live, or what you do, someone is watching. Importantly, it might be your own children, loved ones, friends, and/or relatives. It may even be strangers. Quite possibly, it will be the three year old girl next door. 

Example is a funny thing. Whether you want to have one or not, you do. It is not optional. It is simply there, every minute of every day of your entire life. Never underestimate the power of your own example. As Albert Schweitzer is often credited with saying, "When it comes to influencing people, example isn't the main thing, it's the only thing." While this might be an oversimplification, the sentiment is worth considering.

Give careful thought to who you may be influencing (and how) on a daily basis. Who is watching you? What do they see? If they had to give an evaluation of your behavior, what would they say? Are you a model worth copying? Are you coming across the way you think you are? Or, in the clearest of terms, are you who you say you are? Are you even who you think you are? Whether you want to admit it or not, people watch, absorb, and copy (or reject) you.

Don't think they don't.