No calls please                                              I’ve already got enough of that in my life.


My wife—who is the nicest, most courteous person you would ever have the great good
pleasure to meet—told me that, at 4 or 5, in kindergarten, she was being bullied. Her father
took her aside and showed her ‘how to box’. She employed those lessons only one time.
And that was the end of the bullying.
I asked my father—who will be 90 soon—what he thinks about all this talk
about bullies and bullying.

He laughed and said, “When I was a kid we took care of that ourselves.”

“Yeah… what’d you do?” I asked.
“When I was little, just starting to go to school, I had a kid bully me…”
“And what did you do?”
“I hit him with half a brick.”
“You hit him with a brick?”
“No, I hit him with
half a brick. I hit him in the back with half a brick, and that
put an end to the bullying right there. He didn’t want to have anything more
to do with me.”
“That stopped the bullying?”
“That was the end of it. They called me into the office and said, 'Keith, why
did you hit so-an-so with a brick?' and I said, 'I didn’t. I hit him with
half a
.' They said, 'OK, so why did you hit him with half a brick?'  I said,
'Because I’m too little to pick up a whole brick.' And they said, 'Why did you
hit him in the back?' And I said, 'I wanted to hit him in the front, but he kept
running away.' But, that was the end of the bullying.”

“So, you’d recommend that method to the kids today, Dad?”
“Oh, I don’t know.  All I can say is that it worked for me.”