An Ass Kicking: Or How To Get Back Up After A Particularly Brutal One

Some people, when they say they got their ass kicked, mean physically beaten to a pulp. They are bumped and bruised and require an ice bag, some alone time, and a good attorney. And because we have the law in place, this style of ass kicking does not happen quite as often as in times past (or as maybe it should).

Other times the ass kicking can come from life and it’s abundance of experiences. No physicalharm is done, but the wounds can be just as debilitating as any overhand right or boot to the ribs.

The life beatdown is more mentally exhaustive. It's sting, lasting mere minutes, or days/months/years when letting it linger. And just like any scab the more you pick the worse it becomes.

Healing is done in different ways. For some it's aspirin. Others swear by Ibuprofin. For me an mine, healing can be accomplished through a great meal. And our solution for the particular breed of ass-kicking lasting the last few months was to hit a good old fashioned Deli just south of Akron.

Primo's Deli ( has beef tongue, Braunschweiger, and chicken livers on the menu. This isn't a giant grilled cheese stuffed with random bullshit kind of place. No, this is the real deal. Sauerkraut, horseradish, house-made spicy mustard and ranch. I mean c'mon. When they bring out the house-made ranch with the basket of ruffle chips, you know you’re in the right spot.

The staff was great and the food even better. For about an hour and half we took in the place leaving behind the all the shit show. The stress of work, pregnancy, child rearing, and renovating a house had weighed heavy and we needed an out. That out entailed house-made ranch. And a lot of it.

Voted as best a best sandwich winner many years running, this place did not disappoint. And even though they were known for their Italian sub, we were in a "where's the beef" kind of mood. And it was everything and more we both wanted it and need it to be.

The late lunch served the right amount of relief for the what seems to be a perpetual beating. The feast set us on our way to wobbly jump over the next life hurdle and better prepare us for any possible ass kickings we might face along the way.

Sometimes all it takes is a good deli to set you straight.

- Frank