Annapolis Capital Punishment

There was this bully in junior high school, and he liked to follow me around, make fun of me and then drop a penny in my hair. That's right--in my hair. I had a big head of curly brown hair, sometimes referred to as a "Jew-fro." You read that right. Some even said my hair reminded them of a Brillo pad, sort of like Bernie from the show "Room 222" (You can do a web search, but Bernie's hair was red. Mine is brown). I have less hair now and I wear it shorter but as an adolescent it made me a bit of a standout, even in those much more hirsute days of the 1970's.

Anyhow, before growth spurts evened things out in high school, this rather over-sized basketball player towered above the somewhat smaller than average me. He was a basketball jock, while my size was more befitting of a jockey.

"Hey-can I put a penny in your hair?" he'd taunt me.

What I jerk I thought to myself, "If you do, I'll keep the penny", I chided him back.

That's what smaller and weaker people on the receiving end of bullydom have been doing for centuries. We try to use our wit or sarcasm to outmaneuver and get the better of our tormentors without getting hurt. Consider the Marx Brothers, the Three Stooges, Bugs Bunny or Daffy Duck or RoadRunner--meep meep! Yes, it's been a survival mechanism of the Jewish people for centuries as well. I was merely acting it out yet again. The mass of curly hair did not help matters much.

"Hey what would happen if I put a penny in your hair" he'd ask. And do.

This went on for maybe a week or two, but true to form, each time I told him I'd keep the penny. And I did. Back then one could get a stick of a gum for a penny or two. At least he did not demand I give the penny back, or worse--put gum in my hair.

Then I decided to put a stop to it. "Look you stupid, idiot, jerk, butt-faced jock, pea-brained moron (yes I am exaggerating here for poetic effect), I am warning you right now. If you put a penny in my hair, I'm going to punch you and I'm going to hurt you. So for the last time, leave me alone", I demanded.

He did not listen. He dropped a penny in my hair. I turned around. I balled my hand into a fist. I slugged him as hard as I could right in the gut. I enjoyed feeling my energized fist going in somewhere between his belly button and solar plexus. He gasped. He bent over. He tried to catch his breath. I walked away. He followed me, grabbing his hurt abdomen with one hand, and his other hand became a threatening fist.

He followed me. "Hey-what did you do that for? Why'd you do that? Why'd you do that? Huh? Why'd you do that? You'll be sorry.....", he whined. I noticed a few tears streaming down his face.

It was not the time to feel bad for him. "I warned you and I warned you but you didn't stop. It''s your fault. Now leave me alone," I demanded.

As I recall, he followed me down the hallway still threatening me with his fist. But he did not hit me. He did not bother me again. Problem solved. Lesson learned. For both of us.

There are two types of people in the world. Those you can talk to and those with whom you cannot talk. Or perhaps another way to put it is there are those who can reason, compromise, negotiate, make a deal, "talk turkey", smoke the peace pipe, and engage in diplomacy. And there are those who only respond to or respect force.

I was angry at the jock for making me use force. That was his way, not mine. While dropping a penny in someone's hair is of course not the same as launching a missile at someone, perhaps Hamas ought to think about what happens when it repeatedly provokes Israel. Israelis who are almost always of two minds about how to respond to bullies in their neighborhood are now less likely to believe in land for peace with enemies intent on hurting them and forcing them to resort to violence...again...and again.

See my previous musings about bullying at:


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