This one reminds me of a fourth of july in the evening when I was a kid. In the late 70’s some kids were going up and down a main road in town firing bottle rockets out of their car. A not uncommon thing then. As a young kid I was in the front yard shooting fireworks as well with another kid who was visiting with his family. My dad and his dad were sitting on the front steps of the house.

One pass when the kids came through they fired some at us. The next pass we returned the favor by holding the bottle we were firing from and aiming at them. Both of scored a direct hit and both went off in their car. They spun around and came back running over the curb up into the yard. They jumped out making threats and rushed right in. Then our dads stood up. My dad was a little under six foot but my friends dad was six foot seven and as big as a bear. When those kids saw him they turned tail and ran but both dads were now between them and their car. They went to a store up the road and used a pay phone to call the cops so they could get their car back.

A truly lasting memory.

This reminds me that Andre the Giant said that often, if he went out to a bar, some drunk guy would pick a fight with him, and he’d be forced to beat them away. None of those aggressive drunks ever had a chance against him, but he didn’t like those experiences.

“Because I literally can’t fit through the door. My gigantism is a serious handicap and I’d thank you not to make light of it.”

Someone’s about to learn a lesson in discretion.

My name? Roy Damn Mercer.