Ladies and Gentlemen, and fans of mine (who very likely do not fall into either of the first categories), I present to you

Paul Stevenson, of Danville, Illinois, one of approximately three people (other than my older brothers) who can truthfully say he kicked my ass.

Would have been about third grade, I guess. Maybe fourth. It's important to note, here, that I was the biggest kid in my class. Strongest too, at the time. And Paul was just about the smallest. Though he was quick as a snake, which is also significant to the following story.

So we're in the door line at Roselawn Elementary (the doorline is where the neighborhood kids lined up to wait for the bell to ring and the front doors to open, and I notice Paul's lips are bright red. Now, I knew very well what was up: this was the result of a plaque-dye passed out at school the day before. It stains dental plaque red so you can judge how well you're brushing your teeth. Most of us -- myself included -- used them at night, and were able to scrub off the residue by the next morning.

Paul, apparently, used his in the morning. In my usual charming manner, I asked him if his mother had tried a dress on him while she was helping him with his lipstick.

Instead of taking a shot back -- which was what I'd been expecting -- he blitzed me.

Now, in those days I was also the fastest runner in the class (usually -- sometimes a kid named Chris Nelson could beat me, and sometimes a girl named Rhonda Drews. But I could also beat them.) so I scampered away, laughing, fully secure in the knowledge that there was no way Paul could catch me.

As has occasionally happened in my life, I overestimated my ability.

Before I entirely understood what was happening, he had tackled me and was proceeding to belabor me about the head and shoulders. He didn't actually hurt me -- don't think he was actually trying to; he was merely providing a public demonstration of the simple fact that I could easily get stomped by a guy wearing lipstick. More or less.

Which lesson I have never, by the way, forgotten.

Thanks for dropping by, Paul. I'll be in touch.