When I met Chuck Norris, his first words were, “Thor. That’s a cool name for a lawyer.”
I smiled, because I get that a lot. It’s fun, and I don’t get tired of it.
“So Chuck,” I said, “what is this I hear about your tears being a cure for cancer?”
Now it was his turn to smile.
“Do you know that it is true?” I continued. “I mean, would you like to find out?”
Now that made him think, because if you are Chuck Norris, and you have been hearing all of your life that your tears can cure cancer, but you have never shed a tear, then you really don’t know. I think Chuck had always assumed that it was true. But somewhere inside of him, he realized that he didn’t know. And I think I was the first person to ever suggest to him that he could find out whether or not his tears could cure cancer.
To make a long story short, we spend the next 30 minutes talking about Chuck, his childhood, his aspirations, and other things that were important to him.
At the end of the conversation, I went to a drawer and took out a small test tube. “Chuck,” I said, “I think it is time to find out the answer, don’t you?”
Chuck Norris took the test tube from my outstretched hand. He bowed his head for a moment, and when he looked up, there was a single tear in the corner of his eye. He pressed the test tube against the side of his nose and cheek, as the tear rolled down.
He handed the tear and the test tube to me and asked, “How did you do that?”
“I know what I’m doing,” I told him. I have been doing it for a long time, and I understand how people and systems work.
“Why weren’t you afraid of me, like everyone else?” he asked me.
“I understand what you are capable of, Chuck,” I said. “But I am not afraid of what might happen to me. I don’t fear anything. I know what needs to be done, and that is always what I do.”
Chuck smiled again, like you do when you know that you are understood. He had learned something about himself. “I am that way, too,” he said.