It depends on the thickness of its skull

After this week's Twilight Concert Series show, Casey and I went back to our friend's house. He and his roommate just moved into a 7th story penthouse just south of downtown Salt Lake. The penthouse also has a view of the Salt Lake Bees Stadium. Knowing that the Bees were having fireworks after their games last night and tonight, Casey and I used the power of suggestion (referencing how nice it would be to watch the show from a conveniently located penthouse) to score an invite. These guys are so classy that they suggested we come early enough to watch the sunset and then doubled the offer with a dinner invitation.

Dinner was on the grill while we watched the sunset. At one point, one of the boys posed the question, What is the largest predator you think you could fight to the death using only a hammer? After rationalizing her choice for a minute or so, Casey had to stop because she was grossed out by the images of carnage she was creating for herself. Our friend suggested that if she were in the coliseum, she would no doubtedly watch the horrific scene and might possibly enjoy it. She insisted that it would not be the case.

After dinner was so elegantly served on the ping pong table, we rushed outside to catch the fireworks show. From the roof (since the balcony had a slightly obstructed view), our friend spotted a handcuffed man being escorted from the bottom floor by a few officers.

Before our photoreceptor bleaching had been resolved, we had already shifted our attention to what would be our next show. Our buddy who had been arrested was starting to get upset. Although we couldn't make out his words, we could hear his raised voice. The female officer at his side had no trouble letting her voice carry. We could clearly hear her using his full first name, probably much like his mother had done repeatedly growing up.

The detained began displaying his resistance with his body. As they walked toward the police car, he began flailing his legs. Two bike cops rushed onto the scene at this time. The mass of officers circled the young man. Shortly after, he was on the ground. He had been tased (which we had barbarically been hoping for on the balcony). He was soon calf-roped, securing his legs that he had been attempting to use as a weapon.

A police minivan (which I never knew existed) was on the scene next. A female in a simple uniform exited the vehicle and began taking pictures of the man who was now lying very still on the ground. They rolled him over to get photographs of every angle.

In the mean time, we had busted out the binoculars. We each took turns getting a close-up of the action. I was bummed when it was my turn and the officers were blocking my shot. I never got a good look.

It was then that I realized that as averse as Casey was to the idea of watching an animal get taken down, we had no trouble watching this shirtless law-breaker meet his consequences.

E pluribus unum

Today I got a package together for my grandfather. The purpose of the package was to send him this picture.

He's cute. Isn't he?

I've been working on my family history since November. It accelerated in December when I went down South for a visit. It has been a wonderful yet very challenging adventure. There is still one line in his 4th and 5th generation that I'm not certain is correct, but I wanted to get it in the mail. I don't know how long it'll take to figure it out. It took me over a month to get information about his 3rd generation in that line.
A strange feeling came over me when I merged his 5 generation with his picture. It was so fascinating to see how many lives came together to produce the life of my grandfather.
The post I wanted to publish last week but couldn't involved me realizing how the decisions that others had made negatively affected the life I lived. I missed out on relationships, because these others had severed relationships with these people before I could form them and enjoy them.
However, when I looked at this picture, I realized that because of the decisions that all these people made, my grandfather exists. And because of his decisions, I exist.
And as painful as my realization was the other day, I can't help but also realize how so incredibly blessed I am to live now, to live in these circumstances, to have these experiences, and to create my own relationships. I have been a part of so many lives by choice and by chance.
I can only imagine how my choices will affect those I meet and those I one day mother. I wonder whose picture could be merged with me as his great-great-grandmother.


See what others did today at communal global.

I never know what to post

When it comes to blogging, I'm always torn.

I want to be an open book, but the things I want to write about most include someone else. Unless it's a happy thing, I don't think it's fair to them to share this intimate information.

Like today, I want to post about the emotional day I had, but it involves the relationship I have with my father.

I wrote about it in my journal, but it doesn't seem cleansing enough. I want to say it out loud (which I definitely count posting it on the internet as out loud), but again, I don't think it is fair to my father. It would be a one-sided story, although legitimately how I feel, but it may or may not paint him in a good light.

I've considered creating a whole new blog identity just to be able to post anything and everything, but I don't know if I'm willing to do the work to keep it anonymous.

Until then, I will have to continue to keep all the real posts to myself. No one will ever get to hear of my frustrations, embarrassing encounters, angry moments, or imagine me posting with tears streaming down my cheeks. That is unless you catch me at just the right moment in person. Then I'll be willing to let you into my world and attempt to communicate how I see the world.