On Bullying

Dear Aunt Slugger,

I am a fourteen-year-old high school student, and I am being bullied at school. I am wondering if you have any advice for me?

Sincerely,
Randy
Hampton, VA


Dear Randy,

Randy, I'm glad to see that you are reading my column since I have been trying to re-brand this column as "family friendly," a label that is in dispute for reasons that I do not fucking understand.

Now, bullying is a hot item in the news these days, and your Aunt Slugger is glad it is getting some attention. Your Aunt Slugger was herself bullied in her youth, so it is important for me to pass along some advice to my young readers who are suffering the same fate.

When I was a freshman in high school, I was heavy into the Looney Tunes. I had kind of moved past the cartoons, but I DUG those characters. I collected the stuffed animals, I wore Looney Tunes shirts, and best of all, I had about ten pairs of Looney Tunes shoes. I had one pair of red high-top Keds with a carrot print on the inside of the shoe and an embroidered Bugs Bunny on the outside of the shoe. When I tell you, Randy, that these shoes were dope as hell, I am not exaggerating. I felt like ten million bucks in those kicks.

This may not be immediately obvious to you, Randy, since this is a generational thing, but the Looney Tunes were not universally adored among the general high-school-going population when I was your age. Looney Tunes were kind of, you know, juvenile. In retrospect, they were no more juvenile than tight-rolling your jeans or being obsessed with Boyz II Men, but they were considered mostly uncool by those who wished to appear sophisticated, to the extent that this was possible in '94 in Indiana.

Anyway, never having been much of a fashion plate and being the sort of person who marched awkwardly to the beat of her own trombone,* I did not really recognize that my Looney Tunes shoes were uncool, so I sported those sons-o-bitches on a regular basis.

During my freshman year, my locker was located near this piece of dog shit who seemed to have friends despite having the same general disposition of Kim Jong Un.** I called this guy "The Rat" to my friends and family because I didn't know his name and because he had a rat-like hairstyle.

Early in the school year, The Rat noticed my red high-top Bugs Bunny sneakers (in addition to my weight, lack of style, bad hair, and nerdy interests), and it was all over. His kickoff insult ("Did you get those shoes out of a cereal box?") is, in hindsight, embarrassingly unimaginative, but at the time, it was a devastating blow. He spent the remainder of the year harassing me. I hated going to my locker. He and another of his rat-like friends even followed me part of the way home one day, and I remember being absolutely terrified, even though today it seems borderline comical.

I am not of the opinion that being bullied builds character. I do not look back on my years of torment with nostalgia. In fact, your Aunt Slugger is a high school dropout. High school was so painful that I took some summer school classes, got my diploma, and skipped town.

However, Randy. However. That is not the end. I went away to college. I finished college. I got a job. I went back to college for graduate school. I got another job. Then I became an advice columnist.*** Somewhere in that time span - I don't remember when - I realized something that will be hard for you to hear but which will ultimately make your life easier: There are always bullies. They take different forms, and they are harder to spot when you get older. But they are always there. The difference between you and them is that you are a good person. You are better than they are. And at some point, they just become background noise.

I actually still like the Looney Tunes. I won a Foghorn Leghorn in a stuffed animal claw machine just last year.  I collect those souvenir pennies from tourist attractions even though I'm 34. I'm still overweight. I'm still weird. I found a weird dude who I love and who decided he wanted to marry me. My best friends are people who are weird. We're all weird together. My people, they like me for me.

You'll find your place, Randy, and you'll find your people. Don't try to be something you're not. Because one day you'll wake up and wish you had never thrown out your red Bugs Bunny high tops.

Fuck the haters, Randy, and wear your metaphorical Looney Tunes shoes with pride.****

Sincerely,
Aunt Slugger


*This is not a typo - I was into Looney Tunes and I played the trombone. I was also overweight and a high-achiever academically. This was a social death sentence.

**Side note, Randy: Know your megalomaniac dictators. You will find this helpful later in life when you need to describe your bullying peers.

*** "Advice columnist." Air quotes.

****But seriously, Randy, if you find a pair, let me know. I wear a size 8.5. I'll pay you back.

Richard Sherman and People Who Complain Too Much

Dear Aunt Slugger,

I was thinking that perhaps you might offer some advice to Richard Sherman, the football player who ranted to a sports reporter after a football game. He is so not classy.

Sincerely,
Britney Heather Clark
Muncie, Indiana


Dear Britney,

Well you know there's nothing your Aunt Slugger likes more than sports. And by "nothing," I mean, "everything." Your Aunt Slugger hates sports, sports fans, sporting events, and sports players. All of them. My parents are heavily into football and attempted to get me and my older brother interested in watching it. When football failed, they tried basketball, since that is a very popular sport in my home state. Baseball was also a huge bust because it was not clear to us how baseball is a sport. Then they got desperate, finally installing a tetherball in back yard. This, my brother and I enjoyed. We played a lot of tetherball. We excelled at tetherball. But none of the other sports took. We are a huge disappointment to our parents.

So I am finding it somewhat difficult to weigh in on the Richard Sherman thing. Prior to this incident, I had never heard of Richard Sherman. When Facebook blew up over him, I assumed that he had murdered someone on live television. I Googled him. I watched the interview.

I will grant you that it was weird. What the fuck is a "corner?" And who is "Crabtree?" So it was weird. He yelled. He ranted. He came across as arrogant if not slightly schizophrenic.

However. HOWEVER. I a.) do not understand what all the fuss is about, and b.) think all you people complaining about what a dick Richard Sherman is need to stop it with your double standards.

First of all, what Richard Sherman did in that interview is exactly what Lewis Black does every single time he opens his mouth. And people routinely exchange cash for tickets to see Lewis Black scream about something nonsensical. Your Aunt Slugger owns all his albums.

Second, and more important, let's stop for a moment and take a look at what happens when white people do the same thing.

First, we've got the wife of the New England Patriots quarterback pissing about why the Patriots lost a game. People were surprised, but no one called her a "thug" and she didn't have to draft a goddamn treatise explaining her actions. 

And on the subject of cocky douchebags, how about Adam Levine? The white frontman for Maroon 5 has run circles around Richard Sherman in the cocky quotes department. Yet people love him, except for your Aunt Slugger, who hates him. Facebook doesn't explode with anger or call him a thug when Adam Levine opens his mouth. Instead, people weep as though they have heard the voice of an angel.

Then there are of course the 65,098 political shows that air on news networks in which (mostly) white men scream at the camera about [insert some political issue]. So for those of you complaining that Richard Sherman had a chance to cool down before his interview (thus inferring that he should've sounded like Alan Greenspan reading an encyclopedia on camera), why aren't you saying the same thing about any political commentator who has ever appeared on "Meet the Press?" I mean, those folks have time to put on MAKEUP before they get in front of the camera and they STILL end up in fisticuffs on stage.

So I feel bad for Richard Sherman. I do. Yeah, the interview was weird, but no weirder than anything that's been said in the halls of Congress. He's also a pro athlete. Since when do we expect pro football players to be refined, aristocratic gentlemen? These are folks who get paid to voluntarily jump on a pile of wriggling, 300 pound men who are all fighting over a ball. I don't know what a "corner" is, but I am fairly certain (though don't quote me on this) that the corner's function is not to wear toe shoes and a tutu on the 50 yard line and perform "The Nutcracker."

Though I would actually pay to see that. Are you listening, NFL? Boom. Two advice columns in one.