I think it’s clear to anyone who has beaten me senseless with a crowbar without
fear of retribution that I am not a violent person. While others were studying
the physical arts of ju-jitsu or boxing in their youth, I busied myself
perfecting the sort of intellectual wit that encouraged those other little
ninjas to demonstrate what they learned in karate class. But I never cared for
physical violence. Why bother inflicting fisticuffs, I rationalized, when I
could undermine someone’s confidence about their purchase of a Kajagoogoo album?
A black eye can heal in a matter of days, but an emotional scar could require
decades of therapy. I still think I made the right choice.
