Worse Fights

I grew up in a rough and tough mill town. Fist fights were pretty common and I got into my fair share of them. Some people look for trouble. Others don’t know when to run away from trouble. Running was never my thing. My dad taught me to never start a fight, but he encouraged me to finish a fight. Back when he was growing up the town was even tougher. Every neighborhood had a gang and every gang was unafraid to use weapons on each other.

Trying to mind my own business didn’t work out too well. I got into fights in grammar school right up into high school. For a while in high school I carried an ash billy club. It was longer than the knives the other kids carried and I knew how to break bones with it. Never had to use it, but there were times I was glad to have it. Even after I was married trouble found me and I was throwing punches with a drugged up crazy person in the street.

That’s how it was growing up. It might sound bad, but later on there were fights that paled compared to the ones of my childhood. More grief has been caused by people who’ve never been punched in the nose in their lives. They tend to wear suits. They sit on committees and in board rooms. Sadly, busting their heads isn’t an option because they make the rules we have to live by.

These are the sort of fights that require lawyers and money. They tried to take food out of my kid’s mouths, stole my health care, and robbed my pension. The suit gang makes rules that limit what a person can do with their property. They gang together and extort money from sick with outrageously high prescriptions.

They promise one thing and deliver another. One of their favorite tactics is to turn the little guys against each other and they excel at it. We get so focused fighting for scraps that we never question who actually took the lion’s share.

Street level crime might give you a bloody nose. You could get stabbed or even shot. That’s bad, but in the street you might get in a few licks of your own. The suit gang will destroy everything and everyone you love. Decisions made far away in a tower office can cost your job and put your family out on the street. The endless quest for profit floods communities with opioid prescription drugs. An unholy union between corporations and politicians poisons our food, air and water.

Growing up in an old blue collar mill town was rough. There were some mean characters. However, nobody was as nasty as the gang that bought the mill, ran it into the ground, and finally destroyed it and town. It’s said they provided good value for their stock holders.

-Sixbears