Growing up, I lived in a nice small community where you walked to school, unlike the modern model of idiot mothers parking SUVs the size of Mars to await their, apparently, physically challenged offshoot. After all, my town is 2 square miles, including 2 colleges.
As a kid, I would roll around in the dirt trying to gouge my brother's eyes out, generally sending my Mom shrieking out of the house to save face.
My message is about Jim, who lived right up the street, and for reasons I now forget, I hated him, so we scheduled a fight.
We all lived near a high-tension field that was our baseball field, model plane flying field, dog pooping field, the whole bit.
So the fight began - I am an admitted geek - I had no idea what I was doing. So I threw a punch into his stomach and we all (we had an audience) paused while he threw up.
Voila! Victory.
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