Bullying Prevention – The Psycho Defense

            Not long ago, I was put in touch with a friend I hadn’t seen since we were young teenagers living in city housing projects in the Bronx, decades earlier.  It turned out that he (let’s call him Denny) also had moved north to Rockland County.  We spoke by phone, and agreed to meet for lunch at a Thai restaurant in Nyack. 

            Denny had always been petite.  He was our version of Mickey Rooney or Michael J. Fox:  the bright, wiry, energetic, and sometimes wild kid who stopped growing long before the rest of us did.  I recalled him as fearless, reckless, and sometimes just plain nuts. 

            One day, as kids, a group of us were walking through a mom-and-pop shopping section of our neighborhood, maybe coming back from a movie.  As we passed the outside display of a florist shop, Denny suddenly picked up a potted plant and threw it through the storefront’s glass window, sending soil and shards of glass flying.  We all took off as if fired from a cannon.  As I said, he was sometimes nutty. 

            When I entered the restaurant and set eyes on Denny, I stifled a reaction of shock.  Though facially he hadn’t changed much in 40 years, he was completely bald.  I immediately surmised his hairlessness was not a grooming choice.  He was, he told me, being treated with chemotherapy for cancer.  It appeared to me he wasn’t doing well.  Again, unfortunately, I was right.  In a year or so he was dead. 

            Probably owing to the mixed emotions of the moment, the conversation we had that day over lunch is today a blur in my mind.  But I do vividly remember one revelation, concerning his outsized rowdiness.  He confessed to me that, because he was small, he intentionally cultivated the image of dangerous craziness, the reputation as being one liable to do anything at any moment.  This had been his defense against bullying.  And it worked.  Denny was never picked on or pushed around.  You don’t mess with a psycho. 

            But Denny had been a good kid really, and a good friend ... mostly.  It was sad to hear him divulge he felt he needed to conceal his good nature behind frightening, if not criminal, behavior – all to avoid being victimized by bullies. 

Chatty Cathy at the IRS

My wife and I were summoned by the IRS for an audit of our 2009 and 2010 Federal Income Tax Returns.  Second audit in 10 years.  What a pain in the @ss.  We spent days blowing dust off of our notes and receipts for those years in preparation for the interview today.  We were told to allot four hours for the meeting.  Four!  Waterboarding would have been quicker and more effective.  We trekked over to our local IRS offices, and were seated opposite a pleasant, good-natured middle-aged woman.  She went through with us a dozen or so items marked for scrutiny, checking for, and adding up, receipts.  My home office was a big red flag.  And, in a year (2009) when Sandy and I both had surgery, our medical deductions.  I made a point of turning on the charm and maintaining a jocular, but respectful, facade.  It must be that those folks - the examiners - anticipate negative attitudes and surliness on the part of summoned taxpayers - I can't imagine why - because she positively lit up in response to my pleasant demeanor, and became Chatty Cathy.  Instead of four hours we were out in two.  She did find a number of errors attributable to me and Turbo Tax, but some of them were, believe it or not, in our favor.  So, in effect, it was a wash.  A tie.  A win-win situation.  No money needed to change hands between us and Uncle Sam.  Sandy and I thanked the examiner, and walked out of there as fast as we could without running.  I was sure that, before we got to our car, she'd come running out of the building waving a form and calling us back for something issue she'd forgotten to look into.  But, no, we made a clean getaway.  Your tax dollars at work.