a cork board

fighting the good fight
PMpFri, 23 Apr 2010 19:04:36 +000004Friday 1, 2010, 7:04 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: , , ,

yesterday I was driving nice and casual with my wife and son in the back seat. then this red minivan comes and cuts me off. I won’t get into details about who was driving because then I’ll be racially profiling, just like the police. okay, so then he proceeds to slow down to 40kmh and completely stops on a green light so he can look down the street and read a sign. I’ve seen so much inconsiderate drivers on the road this spring, but that’s not even what I wanna talk about today. I honked my horn and drove around him.  at the next light he pulls up beside me waving his middle finger at me and cursing hard with his windows up. I was so mad. I was begging for him to give me a reason to step out of the car and whoop his ass. I could actually envision my fist pounding the side of his face until he fell unconscious. I’ve been feeling like I’m about to burst lately. not at people I love, but at perfect strangers.

growing up I always avoided fighting. I was pudgy (fat, if you will) and knew that I would only end up with my ass handed to me. plus I always had big brothers to both defend me and put me in my place. so I never fought. I was afraid. I was afraid of losing,afraid of being embarrassed and afraid of breaking something. as I grew a little older I started wanting to fight, and I did once or twice. but I never finished a fight.

people always told me to “walk away and be the bigger person.” and then I found myself not wanting to fight for a different reason. fighting always seemed pretty pointless to me, sure it would feel good. but in the end you’ve allowed a complete jackass the power to push you into a situation where you would never put yourself in unless your hand was forced. you allowed them to make you compromise something about yoyrself. to stoop to their level. people who want to fight provoke the shit out of you until you fall down to their level. and when you do, whether you win or lose the war, you’ve lost the battle. so I chose not to fight.

but now. I’m itching for somebody to fight me. I have these ballads of violence playing off in my head and I can see blood and pummeling and sheer vengeance. but I hold my tongue, I hold my fists, and I choose to be the bigger person every time. but sometimes (more lately) I have grown tired of being the bigger person. my wife says she knows I’m going to pop one day. and when I do, she doesn’t fear for me. she fears for the person I explode onto. because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.

so I keep trying to fight the good fight. I’m trying to listen to the voices of reason and “be the bigger person.” one of my best friend’s Josh told me once “a true warrior knows which battles to fight and which ones to walk away from.” I guess I haven’t found one worth fighting. I haven’t found a battle where I wouldn’t feel like I would  be compromising my character. but I have to remind myself of these morals a lot lately. because I really have been wanting to kick some serious tail. but I’m trying to keep fighting the good fight and live like Jason Marz’s song ‘Live High.’


2 Comments so far
Leave a comment

Yes, smart words your friend passed along. I’m with you on the fighting-is-pointless idea; I never saw the value of it, only noticed machismo guys who wanted to puff up their chests for some reason. Really upset me when some of my buds in high school got into ugly fights; they wanted to prove something, but I don’t know what

Comment by Bigdeal

It’s interesting how this entry resonates with me. My girlfriend linked me this last night because last night I was on the phone with her waiting for a bus in a bus shelter, on my way home, and some drunk frat boy/stock broker in a suit with his girlfriend, walked by me saying “Hey look there’s Charlie Brown! Chrarlie Brown Hey!” referring to me of course, and looking at me trying to make his girlfriend laugh and of course she did. So I immitated the guy only made him sound that much more moronic (if that was at all possible), and he turned around and eyeballed me, and you know what? I wanted the asshole to confront me, I did, I was ready to feed that drunk prick a plate of his ass having a laugh at me with his girlfriend. I was ready, he turned around, eventually walked away, but I was still raging, a part of me regretted not goading him a bit more.

I think back to how I have been in three fights in my entire life. One fight was in elementary school when after my Mom had taken me comic book shopping and I brought my comics to school to show everyone, and some asshole tried to steal them, and I fought him at recess as they had sentimental value. One fight was during a hockey game, after some jerk gave me a cheap shot, and one fight was coming out of a night club.

In all cases, the aftermath left me feeling like they were pointless, but for the most part I was picked on as a kid quite a bit, and I was fought with all the time after never really provoking anyone. I guess, I feel like I owe myself some time to stand up for myself now everyone once in awhile, and that feeling overwhelmingly came over me yesterday when that drunk asshole walked by me calling me “Charlie Brown.”

Comment by Valentino Assenza

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: