Street Smarts

When I was sixteen and angry at someone, I got what I think was some great advice on the subject of revenge.  It wasn’t from a teacher, mentor, wise great uncle or a good book.  It was given to me by one of my brother’s cronies.

My brother was brain damaged.  His friends were mentally challenged as well.  Some were born that way.  Others arrived there courtesy of drugs and/or alcohol.  He was one of the few who lived in his own little apartment.

If I went to visit him and he wasn’t home, I could usually find him on one of the downtown benches under the train elevation.  They were usually taken up completely with the town’s assortment of colorful characters, of which he was one.  When I did trek over there to see him, one of his friends would jump up and offer me a seat. 

Seating was at a premium and it was there under the elevation that I learned a witticism I still repeat sometimes.  “Shuffle your feet, lose your seat.”

The faithful gatherers were full of little witticisms and never seemed to run out of things to talk about.  Like everyone else, they discussed the latest news, sports and politics, and any number of everyday topics, they’re unique views notwithstanding.

I only stayed 15 minutes or so.  That was enough time to come away smelling like a combination of smoke and dirt with my head spinning and ears ringing.

Trains roared overhead with a deafening thunder every fifteen or twenty minutes.  The grime-worn benches vibrated. A coat of black soot swirled in ribboned patterns on the gum laden, trash strewn sidewalk.  Behind them, broken glass and cigarette butts adorned the weeds.  Yet they sat there day by day like they were sitting on a park bench watching kids feed the ducks.

So my ears were ringing from the train noise, but my head was spinning from the pinball-like conversations.  A cohesive thought would be shot out.  It would hit the bells, buzzers and flippers and then slide down the shoot.  A few points could be scored before ring, bang, buzz, boom, TILT!

On one of my visits I mentioned being disappointed with a “so called” friend.  All sorts of revenge tactics were bandied about in pinball fashion.  You have to realize all of these guys had more than their share of being taken advantage of.  They’d all been robbed, beaten, laughed at and abused.   So that “pinball” was whizzing around like mad.

It inevitably tilted but I remember one multi-point winner during the discussion.  Someone said, “Don’t do anything to hurt another person where you will get hurt yourself.”

I thought – hey, that’s good advice.

I know he thought that was possible.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it’s not.  You can’t hurt other people without hurting yourself.