The dad is in Iraq and the mom has hung pictures over the fist-sized holes in the wall created by their teenage son. These are friends of a friend who live in another town. I don’t know these people, but I know their house is not the only one with anger inflicted dings. In two different settings yesterday I heard about teens punching a hole in the wall. I know what it feel like to be mad, but I have no interest in learning what it feels like to put my fist through plasterboard.