On 23 Aug 2010 16:21:02 -0500, " +Grant. " <+Grant@grant.grant> wrote:
>
>
>The Adventures of Stevie #32
>
>These stories were told to me by friends and other people. Some of them
>are true. Some of them are only partly true. Some of them should have
>been true. LOL
>
>My first post about Stevie ("Call me Stephen!") was when he was 12 and
>in summer camp and was told by another camper. This was from a time
>before computers would fit on a desk and when people communicated with
>friends in other countries by actual letters sent through the postal
>service. When children did this those friends were called "penpals".
>Carlos is Stevie's penpal in Argentina and knows English. This is a
>fictional contrivance to enable Stevie to tell us his stories because
>he isn't here in person. I think.
>All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
>that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
>Stevie's school is for gifted children who don't fit in regular schools.
>The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
>Stevie is 11 in this story. It takes place 3 weeks after story #31.
>
>
>The Adventures of Stevie #32 "Ninja for the Defense"
>
>
>Dear Carlos,
>
>
> Ninja visited with us at home! He ate here too. Father made it a
>planned thing. The other kids were at relatives. Mother thought he was
>just a friend of father. Ninja was VERY polite to mother, and she loved
>it. After eating, they talked about world travel, and strange foods. It
>was interesting. I didn't say anything. I just watched and listened.
>Mother didn't notice how strange that was about me. When mother asked
>him what he does, I thought that was going to be VERY interesting what
>was going to happen.
>
> Ninja said "I'm retired now, but I still teach some classes." Mother
>said "Oh, and what do you teach?" He said "A fighting art called
>Ninjutsu." Mother almost dropped her glass she was trying to drink
>from, and tried not to let him see she swallowed the wrong way. I
>thought it was funny. I know that's not nice, but I don't mind being
>not perfect about mother. Then father made it worse for her, and I
>liked that even more. He said "If Ninja hadn't taught me how to survive
>my assignments in the war, I wouldn't be here to introduce my very good
>friend to you. I owe him my life many times over." He meant assignments
>he did for the OSS. They took him from the army because he could speak
>French and German.
>
> Mother was getting a little red, and I think it wasn't because of the
>wrong swallow, so I decided to take the heat off father and ask Ninja
>some questions. I said "Sir, what is the most important thing your
>students learn?" He said "How not to fight." That surprised mother, and
>me too. I said "You teach them how to fight so they know how not to
>fight? I don't understand." He said "Yes, most people react that way,
>but it's really very simple. I can explain it in a general way, to make
>it easy for you. The more you know about something, the more choices
>you know about and can use, and the more able you are to make those
>choices work. So, the more you know about fighting, the easier it is to
>avoid it. There is another part to this. Bullies pick on people who are
>afraid. Somebody who knows how to defend himself is not afraid. This
>confidence shows. Only the bullies who are too dumb to find their butts
>in the dark, will attack somebody like that. Now, Stephen, do you
>understand how it works?" I got excited and said "Yes! I never thought
>of that. Thank you very much." I meant it , too.
>
> "Ah, but there is much more of benefit to a student of these arts,
>that goes significantly beyond self defense," he said. I said "Please
>tell me. I'm dying to know!" I could tell mother was interested in
>spite of herself. Ninja smiled and told me "Please don't die right now,
>Stephen. I'll tell you. When you are physically self-confident, other
>people notice. They pay more attention to you. They believe what you
>say more than they do other people. They treat you as a leader. This
>can help you achieve great things throughout your entire life, with
>everything you do, and the self discipline you learn as a necessary
>part of the arts, helps you achieve greater self control, which you
>have sorely needed, Stephen." Mother really paid attention to THAT.
>
> I said "Until now I thought the only extra thing which was important
>was falling." Mother said "Falling? What about falling?" I explained
>"One of the really important things you learn is how to fall without
>getting hurt. Everybody falls sometimes. People break bones and hurt
>their heads so bad they could die. When you know how to fall, you don't
>have to let any of that happen most of the times, or you can make it
>not as bad. It's a real life saver. I'm glad I learning it." Ninja said
>"Yes, it's very helpful." I think mother thought so too, but would
>never say so.
>
> When Ninja was about to leave, I asked him how Tommy was. He said "My
>best student is looking forward to teaching his favorite student more,
>that's YOU, Stephen, when he's next invited. We will be both seeing you
>at your school, soon, for our regular open sessions, but your private
>lessons with Tommy have made a significant improvement in your
>abilities. You should continue them." I said "I think so too. He's a
>great teacher! Extra nice too." I made a little motion to hug him but
>was afraid to really do it. He signaled "acceptance", so I did hug him.
>It was nice. I think he thought so too.
>
> Tommy is coming over day after tomorrow. It doesn't hurt that mother
>actually likes him, but I like him much more!
>
>
>Your friend,
>
>Stephen
Dear Grant,
Poor Mum. She does get a bad shrift of things, doesn't she?
Ninja's advice, as related to your protagonist, is quite correct, at
least according to my meager understanding. I was reminded of a bully
that I had suffered in prep.
I can see him now ... tall and lanky, but hardly graceful, with a
head of tossled chesnut hair and a perpetual sneer. I appeared much
the same then (my, how the years have flown and grown!), but where he
was brash and rude, I was timid. During sport, he perpetually
pestered me, going so far as giving me a light kick when he could get
close enough to do it. I shrank from him whenever I could.
One day retreat proved impossible, and I gave him my very first
gesture of defiance. I gave him a kick. Well, I made the attempt,
but missed. Nevertheless, his behaviour from that very moment
changed. He no longer pestered me and, I think, would have wanted to
be my friend. I am certain now he was just as unhappy and timid and
insecure as I, but he disguised his vulnerability with a facade of
bravado.
Well, I decidedly did NOT want to be his friend, so he let me be from
that day forward. That was unfair of me, I suppose, for we could have
been kindred spirits with one significant exception ... he expressed
himself with violence, and I abhorred it.
I am yet astounded that I survived those years. The rowdy lads
generally let me alone, and I concentrated on my studies.
Which has made me the brilliant essayist that I am to-day.
Obviously.
Sincerely,
HMS Victor Victorian, NP-g18
God Save the Queen.
God Bless the Prince of Wales.
God Preserve the Windsors.
Rule Britannia!
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