My family moved from rural Ohio to Arizona when I was nine. I had been used to gentle kids in a gentle setting. When we first moved to Tucson, we rented a house near the air force base. What a travesty of education that school was, with two and three grades all mixed into one massive setting, rooms the size of cafeterias, with teachers and aides wandering here and there and getting exactly nothing done. First day of school, this gigantic blonde kid, a sixth grader who had been held back twice (so sizewise, an eighth grader), decides he doesn't like me and proceeds to beat the shit out of me on the playground. The fucker did that every chance he got all year long. Turned me mean. I couldn't beat him, but I got to the point where I could hurt him. Fast forward thirty odd years, lots of martial arts classes, powerlifting, policework, bouncing at pubs on weekends, and I fucking want to kill anything that threatens littler, more gentle things, every chance I get.
If you don't fight it, you accept it.
If you don't fight it, you accept it.
Trying to update my sig ...
