Volume LXXXII: The Free Lance Friday Edition; Thoughts from the Throne, Part I

Good evening every One, Happy Friday!!!  As always, it’s a pleasure to be here and a pleasure to have You.

Today I am going to be tall King a little more about My ‘fear’, and I am thing King I may be able to better articulate what I was Wishing to say yesterday.  If not, I am thing King it Will at least be a slightly more interesting Story.

I’ve always kind of been a ‘nice’ guy, though I suppose it would largely depend on whom One is as King.  When I was a child, I went to a public school that was Kindergarten through grade 8, everyone knew everyone.  Being a ‘nice’ kid was never a problem; I had lots of Friends and school was kind of fun.  My parents separated when I was somewhere around thirteen, and I moved to the city of Guelph with My Mother, My Brother, and My Sister.  School was not so fun.

Not only was I a ‘nice’ kid, I also happened to be the smallest kid in the school and I’m not exaggerating.  The only child who was smaller than Me in stature had a medical condition that adversely affected his growth.  I’d always thought being a nice, Friendly kid would mean I’d be easily liked and have lots of Friends.  Up until that point, that had proven to be true.  Well, the school I ended up transferring to also happened to be the ‘toughest’ junior high school in the city and to the best of My knowledge, it still is.

I was nervous about My first day as I imagine any child would be, but I was in no Way prepared for what I would experience.  The first day of school I found My first class which happened to be French, which only added to the intimidation because We didn’t have French at the public school I’d attended previously, and all the other students had been taking French for at least a couple of years.  I was in My seat five minutes or so before class was about to start, teacher wasn’t in the room yet, and another student walked past My desk and punched Me – hard, right on the crown of My head.  I was terrified and frozen with fear.  I did nothing about it, and the rest of the class seemed to think it was hilarious.  Not a great start, and it certainly didn’t make Me feel any better about My new school.

Nothing else memorable happened My first day with the exception of My Father coming to visit to see how all of his children made out on their first day.  I didn’t really get along with My Father the Way My Brother and Sister did, so I told him I hated My new school but didn’t Wish to be tall King about it.  My Father insisted and suggested We go out to his van so We could talk privately.  Somehow he knew something serious had happened.

I told him the Story and it remains one of the most important conversations My Father ever had with Me.  He told Me that I’m ‘too nice’, and gave Me the whole ‘Good guys finish last’ speech.  I just kind of looked at him and was as King of him to take a serious look at Me – I was tiny, and I didn’t know the first thing about fighting even if I wasn’t.  My Father told Me it didn’t Matter.  He told Me to go into class confident the next day and do exactly as I had done the previous day, not to start any trouble.  But if the same kid hits Me again, to get out of My desk and fight back.  He told Me not to worry about not knowing how to fight, I’d learn.

Needless to say, I was even more nervous about going to school the following day, but I took My Father’s advice to heart.  He had also told Me that he was just as small as Me when he was a boy and went through the same thing when he first went to high school, so I Trusted his advice.  Sure enough, the same kid did the same thing.  This time, I literally catapulted from My chair on top of him, We both fell to the ground and I just started punching him in the face as hard as I could (which probably wasn’t very hard).

Shocking maybe, but true.  This time, the class was cheering, and I made My first Friend that day.  I thought maybe that would mean I would never get bullied again.  Unfortunately, when You are in the toughest school in the city, it actually meant the virtual opposite – now I was known as a ‘scrapper’.

When school was finished that day, there was a crowd of kids waiting for Me outside with some stranger that wasn’t even in My class waiting to fight Me.  The advice parents Give children about walking away from fights and bullies is really not practical, because there had to be at least twenty kids waiting for Me, and they weren’t letting Me go anywhere until I fought this guy.  Well, I still had no Idea how to fight and got beat a few times before I finally came home with a shiner I couldn’t hide from My Mother.

My Mother worried so much for all of Us that there was no Way I could tell her what I was going through at school, but now there was no Way for Me to hide it.  Of course, I think her first question was as King of Me why I didn’t just walk away.  When I told her, I think she was truly terrified.  Within the week, My Mother told Me that she’d found a karate class for Me and asked Me if I was interested.  Needless to say, I was!

I only took karate for a year, but I learnt quickly.  I’d taken gymnastics because it was part of regular school in Scotland (where I did a couple of years previous), so I was already flexible and coordinated.  Within a year, nobody was bullying Me, and I was actually known as “Sean ‘Claude’ van Damme”, or ‘van Damme’ for short (with a last name like von Dehn, One can hardly blame them).  I also started working out.

By grade ten, I still only weighed about 140lbs, but I could bench press over 200 and had a physique to match My nickname.  I didn’t even have to fight anymore because I was so Good at kickboxing, I could ‘tag’ a person by kicking their earlobe without causing harm, fast enough to let them know that picking a fight with Me might not be such a Good Idea.  My Sister could attest to this because if she was irritating Me (which she did often), I would practice on her.  Even in the one year I did take karate, We only sparred on Saturday’s, and within six months, I was paired with blue, brown or black belts and sometimes won (it was just for points, not full contact).

Anyway, within two years I went from being the bullied to almost becoming a bully My Self.  It was an argument I was having with a Friend in the hallway at school one day, he got frustrated and tried to hit Me.  I blocked or dodged the punch, then started kicking his earlobes which was something of a trademark.  He looked at Me with disgust and said, “You’re just an asshole now, I Wish You were still getting bullied.”

That comment hurt Me more than I would ever let My Friend know that day or since, but it was a wake up call.  The relevance of this Story, is that it’s something of a prequel to where I am now with respect to the law and a near perfect metaphor.  I basically got ‘bullied’ by the Canadian government for claiming a Spiritual Life, which is much like getting picked on in school for being a nice guy.  The last thing I Wish to do, is become the bully.

We’re already well over the 1,000 word mark, so I’ll pick this up again tomorrow.  I hope and Trust You are all having a Fabulous Friday!

Today’s feature image is something of a tribute to One of My Blog readers who presented Me with the TEDtalk Video posted earlier today.  I Wish for My readers to know that I do very much enjoy My Life and My work, I just have some reservations about where I ultimately know that work Will one day take Me…

Love and Blessings,