When I was in middle school, (we still called it Jr. High back then), there was this guy, Tommy Thorpe, (if you’re out there, Tommy, and you can read and for whatever reason, you’re reading this…Fuck You!), who liked to kick my ass every day after class.  I would meet him near the tennis courts of Post Jr. High, promptly at 3:15pm, where he would punch or knee me in the stomach, push me to the ground, laugh and shuffle away.  I went along with this for months, (always prompt because I didn’t want to miss my bus to Hebrew school), until he tired of the routine and stopped showing up.  I don’t remember why it started in the first place, but I do remember trying to negotiate my way out of the situation, feigning remorse for whatever I had done to piss him off, pleading hemophilia, (which in retrospect I realize must have sounded like homo-something-or-other to that cretin and only exacerbated the situation), and offering bribes of pocket change and/or lunchbox treats, all to no avail.  He was, like all bullies, in need of messing with someone and I was the designated messee.

I don’t often think about those playground days, but I’m certain that they set in stone my intolerance for bullying in all of its forms.  It actually gave me the tools for being, (for the most part), transparently non-confrontational with asshole movie producers and directors, unreasonable record company executives and artists whose opinions of themselves were many times greater than their talents.  I have not been punched or kicked since 1959 and, although I’ve entertained the occasional, very realistic fantasy, I have never hit anyone else.

The bullies in today’s headlines are no different than Tommy Thorpe, (you piece of shit!).  Assad is just trying to be as badass as his father and he must be perpetually pissed off about his lack of chin.  Putin, obviously a closeted homosexual, (as illustrated by his relentless sharing of shirtless he-man poses), has chosen to use his confused sexual orientation and his tyrannical, iron-fisted power to lash out against other gays, Chechnyans and puppies.  Where the parallel strays is in the consequence.  I received some bruises both physically and emotionally; at worst, a permanent scar on my psyche.  Those effected by the unconscionable acts of the Vlads and Bashars of the world are dead and dying by the hundreds of thousands.

This is normally where I would make some definitive statement regarding a solution to this horror…I got nothin’, except to caution those promoting the “it gets better campaign”.  Surely we need to nurture, support and encourage the perseverance of the most tortured among us, but a promise of a better day is only more tortuous when it never dawns.