Go ahead, push me around if you want...

Recent events in my life have gotten me to thinking about bullying.

There are many forms of it, from a little touch of meanness to outright cruelty, and it can be physical as well as mental.

I have been subjected to both in my life, and I must say, I would prefer a punch in the face to mental abuse any day. Bruises on the flesh heal. Bruises on the psyche... not so much.

I have often said that I simply don't understand "mean." I don't get why one person feels a need to deliberately hurt another. But getting up at three in the morning gives me time to contemplate such things, and I think I have figured it out.

I think that some people actually derive pleasure from inflicting pain on others. While most people take pleasure from laughter with friends or eating chocolate or riding roller coasters, I think there are some whose pleasure centers are activated by the tears of others. Serial killers get intense pleasure from their "work." I think there may be a bit of that in play with a bully, who may not feel the need to actually murder someone, but crave the joy they extract from hurting another, whether it is from shoving them into a wall or humiliating them to tears.

Actually, maybe more people than not; that would certainly explain the proliferation of "reality TV," where the point seems to be humiliating others. I worry about our society when the masses gather at their TV screens and grin with delight over others being embarrassed and bullied for millions to see.

Maybe not all of those folks are getting their pleasure directly from hurting another. For some, it could well be that they merely feel a need to prove their superiority because they themselves are so insecure. Perhaps they are intimidated by another person's success, and they believe that if they knock that person down a peg, they are leveling the playing field. That is certainly easier than striving for success yourself. It's sort of like tripping the leader in a foot race so you can run past them. Win by cheating if that is the only way. Only, there is no true win.

I have known a few people who seem to believe that they truly are superior to everyone else, and seem to think it is their duty to point out everyone else's shortcomings. Perhaps they feel they are actually educating others when they correct them publicly (and often sarcastically) like Alex Trebek upbraiding a contestant on Jeopardy: "Oh, no," with a smirk on his face. "Of course, the answer is 'DaVinci.'" (It's easy, of course, when you have all the answers on a card in front of you, carefully researched my interns. And I can certainly understand how Mr. Trebek might have developed an inferiority complex over the years, being constantly surrounded by people who really do know most of the answers.)

I have many faults, some which shame me, but I am truly grateful that wanting to cause another person pain is not among them. I am not saying I never hurt anyone else, but I can tell you that when I do, it hurts me, just as it hurts me to see anyone bullied. Does that make me a bleeding heart? So be it.

I would direct this toward those bullies, but there would, of course, be no point. Those that are wired to derive pleasure from another's pain will simply enjoy knowing that bullying hurts, and the others will probably not recognize themselves.

Of course, the irony in this might well be that I consider myself superior to the bullies...

What do you think?

Tortured metaphors and other painful aspects of Midwestern weather...

Do you feel that? A subtle shift in the wind, in the angle of the sun... we have reached that tipping point, where the tight grip winter has had starts to slip, and we start to slide into the warm embrace of spring.

Oh yes, it does happen to be snowing this morning, but you can feel that it has no real strength, like an exhausted baby throwing a last little fit before falling fast asleep after a long day. To continue this tortured metaphor, in the morning the baby will wake up refreshed... and be called Spring!

Wishful thinking, you say? Well, my crocuses, which are a beautiful green peeking through the snow cover, tell me differently. I have bought seeds, and I am making plans for new raised beds. I am thinking about making an appointment to get my dog shaved into his spring "fru-fru" coat, and I no longer mind so much that the heat in my car only works sporadically. So there you have it, all the proof you need that Spring is springing upon us.

Before we know it we will be feasting on fresh strawberries and then sun-warmed tomatoes picked right from the vine and eaten while strolling through the garden. It's the best of what the Midwest offers us; to me, the sole purpose of winter is being a contrast to spring, summer and fall. Sort of like the white stripes on a zebra; you couldn't appreciate them without the black stripes to make them stand out.

Okay, that's really silly. It's more like if you were being subjected to some form of torture, say, having your teeth pulled one by one with pliers and no pain killer, and suddenly they stop and give you novacaine...

No, I don't really hate winter that bad, but... yes, I am very pleased that spring is arriving!