I dealt today with a typical middle school fight. Two boys, usually friends, pushed horseplay too far and one of them ended up with a black eye. I was unable to reach the parent of either one for hours. This made me wonder what would've happened had one been seriously hurt. Shouldn't parents be somewhat available? But I digress...

After things were all calmed down I was chatting with one of the boys. We were talking about making choices, avoiding conflict, and what lessons he could learn. He piped up, "Mr. Stone, did you ever get into a fight when you were in school"? Well, yes of course I did. Fighting is part of growing up for most kids and I was no exception. In spite of being a skinny little shy boy I found myself in a few altercations over the years.

My mom always likes to tell the story of a young Brian getting jumped by two other boys on the way home from school when I was in 3rd grade. My friend Chris came along and jumped right in the middle of things. When I got home my mom asked, "how did Chris do when he started fighting"? I responded, "he was doing just fine when I left". "You left"? she asked incredulously. My answer was, "mom, you don't understand. Chris LIKES to fight. I don't".

Chris was one of my best friends but we occasionally had conflict. One day we had an argument and he shoved me to the ground. I went home humiliated and crying. Then I watched "Popeye" on television. I ran into the kitchen, opened a can of spinach, and ate a big helping right out of the can. (UGH!!!). I ran back outside, found Chris, and proceeded to waylay him. He was shocked when I hit him and knocked him down. Chris turned out to be a state champion wrestler and one of the toughest guys in town. But hey, I had my moment!

Of course there was my best friend, Bob. We had quite a few little fights over the years. He won most of them. Once he was holding me down and asked, "you give up"? I nodded, he let go, and I punched him right between the eyes. All's fair in love and war eh? I remember another fight we had when I told him that his girlfriend looked like a catfish. She did!! But like typical boys our fights never lasted long and were soon forgotten. Often we were playing happily just an hour later. Why is it that boys do that and girls hold grudges forever? I've seen high school girls who hate each other for something that happened in 5th grade. Whats up with that?

In junior high school there was a guy named Roger. This guy was always picking on me...daily, constantly, every single day. He'd shove me as he walked by me in the hall. One day in gym class he walked by and slapped me in the side of the head. I shoved him over a bench and jumped on top of him. The teacher broke it up, took me into his office, listened to my story, and told me "you should've done that sooner. He's a punk. Punks need to be taught a lesson sometimes" He offered to let me have at him some more with boxing gloves on. I politely demurred and so did Roger. It didn't matter...my honor was restored and Roger never messed with me again after that day.

I don't remember having any fights in high school. I was interested in two things...basketball and girls. In that order. When I was a sophomore there was a senior guy named Rick. He liked to tease and mess with me. In Mrs. Hickman's English class one day he "flipped my ear". It hurt like hell and I instinctively responded by stabbing my pencil into his leg. It drew blood. He didn't even flinch. He just looked at me and said, "if you ever do that again you won't have any teeth left in your head". I believed him! We were actually pretty good friends after that. Rick gave me a ride in his truck once and a Barry Manilow 8-Track slid out from under the seat. I picked it up and Rick was mortified! After all, what tough guy wants people to know he listens to Barry Manilow? Very uncool.

My last fight, if you can call it that, occurred when I was about 20 years old. I was a college student out for the night with my wife, her brother, and his wife. Everyone but me was totally toasted. We stopped at a convenience store to get some food. I went into the store and when I came out my brother-in-law was in an argument with some guy in the parking lot. His wife didn't help matters by boldly asserting, "don't mess with my husband. He knows karate". This caused the cowboy in question to throw Ray to the ground and start hammering on him. I tried to pull the guy off and make peace. Very bad idea. Someone whose face I never saw grabbed me from behind, threw me to the ground, grabbed my hair (yes, I once had some!), and started pounding my face into the concrete. It seemed to last forever. My wife tried to help but the guy punched her right in the nose. She went to the car and sat down. I looked up and there must've been 15 people fighting in that parking lot...a regular brawl! We heard the police sirens and the crowd started to scatter. I laid down in the back seat of the car and the two very drunk women were trying to tend my wounds and tell me how sorry they were. Ray got out of the car and tried to drunkenly argue his case with the police. They threw him in jail for the night where he suffered with several broken ribs. I just had a face that looked like raw hamburger meat. I had to go back to classes and my pizza delivery job with a face that looked like I'd been run over.

An old expressions asks, "are you a lover, a fighter, or a race car driver"? Count me in the lovers corner. I'd rather kiss a girl than the concrete any day of the week. And as I told my mom so long ago, "I don't like to fight"!

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