(Featured image is my play on words)

Yes, it is Boxing Day. But in my life, it means I wrap my hands and plunk on my 16 oz. gloves. But it means more…

Gleason’s Gym in Brooklyn

My grandfather boxed whenever a traveling carnival came near his town. If he beat the headliner -which he usually did- he earned 5 whole dollars (a lot back then).

My dad boxed in the Army and later became a ref.

My dad at 18

I’ve been boxing for almost twenty years. I don’t hit people. I hit bags and pads. But I hit like I am boxing myself out of a corner. What I’ve learned are a few metaphors on life.

-protect yourself at all times (stand up for yourself)

-don’t be the one who goes down for the count (stay alert)

-roll with the punches (go with the flow)

-don’t let down your guard (be aware)

-don’t pull any punches (be honest)

-don’t hit below the belt (stay kind)

A painting I did after seeing a match at Madison Square Garden

Joe Louis, of course