It’s strange what memories can come bubbling up when least expected.

Thinking about the Zimmerman/ Martin shooting took me back to my high school days and “sort of” friends of mine.

Jimmy and Donny were nice enough when they were not drinking but then, after they had a few beers, they got rowdy—tough guys out looking for trouble. Some considered them bullies yet they received as much hurt as they gave out. Two brothers who were not afraid to take on anyone no matter their size or age. Cut lips, bloody noses, black eyes and assorted scrapes and bruises but that was it.

They were out there on their own. Real people, not wannabees. No guns, no knives, or baseball bats. They were who they were. A couple of wild Irish boys who suddenly appeared out of nowhere claiming my thoughts as a result of something going “bang” in the night.

I graduated from high school, went on to the University of Wisconsin and never heard from Donny and Jimmy again. I’d like to think they settled down, but who knows? Maybe they turned out to be something wonderful. I’d like that.

As to the point of this digging into my past, what if “stand your ground” statutes had been in place back then? What if carrying concealed guns was prevalent? Instead of settling something with fists would a bullet have ended it all: Jimmy and Donny lying on the ground with bloody knuckles and another holding a smoking weapon?

That was then, this is now. So what? People argue, yell, throw a punch. Not exactly Marquess of Queensbury rules but should it end with a shot? No! No! No!

Pistol bravery and a black boy on a rainy night wearing a hoody. So terribly, terribly sad! How terribly, terribly wrong!