Watching The Donald make an ass of himself while attempting to intimidate Hillary reminded me of this story from my childhood.
My father, a genius, did not suffer fools easily.
He had zero patience for stupidity combined with malice. It’s from him that I learned how to shut down anyone who gets out of hand by flaunting his or her willful ignorance &/or bad manners in my face.
However, as a kid I was not naturally inclined to defend myself. You see, I was a shy, bookish child with poor coordination, no siblings, and thick eyeglasses.
Bullies used me for target practice, because I was physically weak and because I was a girl and because of my legal first name.
In the first few weeks of kindergarten one bully, Karl, an oversized-oaf with pale blond hair and a need to be noticed [sound like anyone in particular?], started bugging me on the playground and in the classroom.
I was upset and didn’t know what to do.
When I told my mother, an introvert, about what was going on she gave me her general advice about people: “just ignore ’em.” This, as you can imagine, was of no help to me in this situation.
Kindergarten is not the time for taking the high road.
So I turned to my father.
He listened to my problem then told me exactly what to do. I didn’t understand what he wanted me to do, but I knew, even at a young age, that this guy had a way of dealing with people, so I did exactly what he said.
[Tune in tomorrow for Part 2.]