Bullies!

There have been a lot of stories about bullies the past several months and new anti-bullying legislation has been passed in several states. Has anyone of us not been bullied at some point in our lives? Let me recall one of the best bullies I ever had the misfortune to be a repeated victim of.
 Let's call him for blog purposes , Mike. Yes, even though it's almost 50 years ago that Mike bullied me, I am not ashamed to admit that I am afraid that if I use his real name, he may somehow find out, and seek revenge. I'm serious. Let me give you a few details about Mike. He had  shocking red hair which was long for it's day and was always uncombed. He moved around in a very fluid, lanky  fashion and had the most "I don't care about anything at all" attitude that I ever saw. He seemed to always wear low cut sneakers with floppy laces. I remember him burning his awful eighth grade report card in the back of our school, something akin to draft card or  flag burning back then. Kids who were 13 or 14 simply did not display such anti social behavior during that era..but Mike did.

He also could sing many very obscene verses of Barnacle Bill, The Sailor, which I had only heard previously  in a Popeye cartoon. Sheepishly, I must admit that I can still remember some of them. They were incredibly funny at the time.

You might be asking, how, if he was a bully I was terrified of, would I find myself to be in his presence to see him burn his report card and display his obscene vocal skills ? I think it's akin to putting your hand in a fire...you want to see how close you can get, without being burned. It was also the fact that his behaviors were so contrary to mine, that one could not help oneself to watch in a vicarious way. 
But, I digress. So how did Mike bully me? Well. it was pretty straightforward bullying 101. I'd be riding my bike down his street which I had to, as it was on the way to my grammar school, where I'd hang out occasionally. Of course, I rode my bike as fast as I could, on the opposite side of the street where he lived, praying that Mike was not hanging out on his porch stoop, where unfortunately, he did a lot of the time. His friends that were with him on the stoop were of similar disreputable character.  Mike had the instincts of a cheetah on an open plain in Africa, and I of course, was the gazelle.
He would run across the street, stop you on your bike, and then threaten to bust up your face and/or your bike, in no particular order. I  must emphasize that I did nothing to provoke him, other than have the audacity to ride my bike down his street, or worse yet, walk down his street.

Usually, he would take out whatever anger he had on your bike, throwing it down, riding it with threats that you would never see it again, etc. I can't recall him ever striking me, but just the thought that he might, was sufficient enough for it to be a horrific experience. It was usually over in a few minutes, although it felt like hours. And then, he would let you go, after he had satisfied whatever twisted needs that had led him to act the way he did.
I was one of his victims on many occasions, but never really told anyone about it, other than my friends, who if they were with me, would get the same treatment. My parents would have shrugged it off, telling me to avoid him and the street he lived on. I didn't even consider telling school authorities or the police, as it seemed petty to do so. Forget knocking on his door by the way as well, to tell his parents, who I had seen only occasional glimpses of.  They did not appear to have a sympathetic nature.. No ,being bullied my Mike was just part of the the neighborhood experience, no different than the other pleasant parts of my childhood.
In a short few years, I was in high school, and never saw Mike again.  I can't help but wonder how he ended up.