The Tough Guy

I've never understood people who take pleasure in other people's suffering.  I've never understood people who take joy in knocking other people down, whether it's justified or not.  It bothers me on the deepest level.  I guess because it's so petty.  And completely unnecessary.

I never had a "tough-guy" dad.  You know those dads, who tell their sons to do x, y, or z, so they can be a "man".  I never recall my dad telling my brother that or issuing those types of ultimatums.  My mother taught me to be kind.  God taught me to be forgiving.  All the women in my family taught me to "do no harm, but take no sh*t".  It's a mantra I live by.  I can't recall my father ever actually threatening anyone, but I guess it was because he didn't need to.  He's a lot like my brother...you're more likely to be a victim of his sense of humor than of his fists.

My grandfather was a "tough guy".  He wore cowboy boots and carried his Colt around with him in a handmade leather holster.  He worked long hours on the Santa Fe railroad and cussed and drank and threatened anyone that crossed him in any way.  It sounds like a romantic Western. The truth is, by all accounts he was odious to be around and ridiculous in his bloated sense of self-importance.  This doesn't mean I don't have any happy memories of him.  The tough guy faded away when he picked me up off the ground and put his hard hat on my head, when he killed all the bees in the backyard shed with a vengeance because they stung his little granddaughter on the nose.  But that's all I've got.  I think my mother stopped taking him seriously once she realized that most of the smoke he was blowing wasn't coming from the Marlboro between his fingers.

I'm really not sure why I was thinking of him tonight.  Maybe because things change so fast.  Because of the lifestyle he led, he had few friends, a wife that stayed with him out of fear, and a daughter who was relieved to see him go.  I'll never forget the smell of cigarette smoke, or the time I sat on his hospital bed and showed him pictures in an album.  I was sure he was going to get better.  Kids are like that.

I still have a paper to edit, and the cold that has been going around has taken up residence with me.  I anticipate a quiet day tomorrow, full of editing and chicken soup.