It was a warm spring morning in 1992. At the time, I was a pudgy and hyperactive seventh grader at Swampscott Middle School. The bell had just sounded and I was slowly meandering to my next class when my best friend, Josh Grab, intercepted me in front of the principal’s office. For some reason I can’t recall, he got in my face and began to push my buttons. I tried to continue on my way but Josh wouldn’t let up. He was relentless. He went on and on and on. After about three minutes, I had finally reached my tipping point and lost control.
In a flash, everything went white. Before I even knew what was happening, I turned around, made a fist and swung my arm with every ounce of energy I had in me. Instead of taking my frustration out on Josh, which I totally should have, I struck a plexiglass art display containing a chaos pendulum built by students at M.I.T. It was a perfect strike. As soon as my tightly clenched fist hit the display, I heard a crack and felt the large object buckle under the force of my haymaker. Within a second, I knew that I had broken something. Thankfully, it wasn’t my hand but then I realized it was an even worse outcome. The large plexiglass case splintered and one of the large panes split in half. The damage had been done. The severity of my stupid behavior hit home when I came to my senses and realized a group of my classmates were suddenly gathering in front of the principal’s office to witness my carnage.Read More