Back in 79, I think it was, I tried to learn TaeKwondo. I went to a local place, and discovered that I posses an almost herculean lack of coordination. Oh, I could land a punch or a kick, bit it was pretty much as likely that I was gonna fall over or hit something I didn’t intend to hit.

One thing, though: I could take a beating.

Being the biggest kid in the playground had often meant I got bullied a lot- Read Princess Bride, the part about Fezzik, and you’ll get the general idea. I couldn’t really defend myself or I’d get in big trouble, so I just stood there and took it a lot. Got the nickname Iron Balls Og.

Soanyway, I’m a couple of weeks into the Taekwondo class and the sensei does this thing where he gets you to attack him and he blocks you. One by one he takes the class down. Then he gets to me.

I try to kick him and he grabs my leg and I go down. Then I stand back up and try to punch and he flips me down. I stand up andjust go a little nuts and try to swat the guy, who by this time is pissing me off no little bit; he’s beginning to be a little perturbed because I keep getting back up. So for about twenty minutes I swing at him, and he dodges (most of the time) and he swings at me and lands some pretty brutal hits, but I keep getting back up or coming back,and finally he yells “fall down, dammit, and I’ll stop!” (Well, with a korean accent) but I never do. FInally I manage to catch one of his wrists and get him on the ground, and plant my 240 lbs (at that time) on his 140 lb chest. To my credit, I didn’t crush his head like I wanted to do, but I made it clear he wasn’t gonna do that to me again. When he stood up he shook my hand, told me I needed to leave and he would refund the cash, and told me I’d never be a good fighter but he never met anyone who could take a beating like me.

I don’t know if I’d like to do that these days, but over the long haul, I can still take a lot of hits before I go down. Metaphorically speaking, of course.