Oh, Hey. It's a Family Affair

This is how happy cyclocross makes me...When it isn't killing me. Thanks to Angy Snoop for the photo.

I've decided that I am going to try and change the way I blog coming up here. Instead of only saying, "This is what I did this week or day or weekend", I will add weird posts about a memory I have, or a fiction writing piece or about whatever is chapping my hide at that particular second. Some people may like it better and others may not care for it at all. Of course, I could just lose the three regular readers I have, but it's a risk I'm willing to take in order to make myself write a little something more than just blah, blah, blah, my day went thusly...Although, it might just be a very little something more.

Okay, so...We went to Madison for that bike race this weekend and for the most part, it was very nice. We did hang out with my family on Saturday night, and that is always a crap shoot as to whether we'll get along or if there will be some weird argument over old family wounds or disagreements about some bullsh*t where people are just trying to win the argument, instead of understanding what the other person is saying. Sounds amazing, doesn't it?

Last Saturday was the latter of those scenarios. We somehow got on the subject of the death penalty. We were talking about someone who's crime was so heinous that he was probably going to get beaten and killed in prison, if he didn't get the death penalty, and I made the grievous error of saying that with that kind of choice, I would probably opt for the death penalty. I said that there were certain lives I probably didn't want to live. All the women at the table agreed with me, but the men were extremely opposed. They both said, if you were alive, there was hope that you would see another day. They made it seem that I was endorsing suicide. I really thought it was a harmless statement and I was surprised at how strong the reaction was from the men at our table. The "discussion" went on and on got weirder and louder (because that's how it works in my family) until we finally had to change the subject. Sigh.

I wish I could say I learned my lesson and would never again start a sh*t storm discussion with my family, but I've met myself, and I've met my family, so you all probably won't have to wait very long for the next post much like this one. I did think it was interesting that we so divided among gender lines. I wondered if that meant that men were more hopeful, or if women were just more aware of how crappy a life could be or were more empathetic to what someone in extreme pain either physical or emotional could be going through.

After all the drama had subsided and we were safely back in our Air BnB, I said to John, "Well, apparently, my family isn't much for idle chit chat..." Poor John.