We fought a lot when I was growing up.. at school, at home, in the streets.. somebody was always fighting.. it's how we dealt with conflict, protected our possessions, our honor, the honor of our families, projected our egos, proved ourselves to ourselves and to our friends.. we fought.. didn't matter what the schools said, what the police threatened, what the old lady on the corner said.. we fought. And as I remember, it felt wonderful to lay it all out there.. to put the best of what you could muster against your opponent-- and even more.. to take his best and still stand there.. with the world still turning.. there was something in that that I still remember.. and even as an adult I recognize that some things are better handled hand to hand.. no conflict resolution, no time-outs.. just straight up banging.. may the best man win.. and the loser relent.. it's one of the reasons that along, with all of the music and poetry and Art and literature and whatnot that I teach my boys.. they can also bang some heads.. and I don't care what they mama say.. boys need to know how to fight.. they also need to know when to fight.. cause when the folks you're supposed to call don't come, you better know what to do.. or better still.. when the folks that you called come at you.. almost forgot to say what I wanted to say: Do you know how to fight? Do you keep your skills up? If so, how? My underlying opinion is that it's important for us to keep in touch with our physical selves..