Family Stories

My family does not discuss any long stories around the dinner table, just a few short ones. These short stories aren't shared often. In fact, our family doesn't tell any classic stories, just things that will only be gone over once, then forgotten. Though I can not truthfully call these "classic family stories", I consider them to be unique in their own special way, retaining to only my family.

I cant call them classic because, like I have already said, they are not discussed. I have inherited these stories from boredom in long car rides, or my curiosity on my parents past lives. Have you ever been stuck somewhere with an adult from within your family, with nothing to do? That is the type of situation that I acquire these interesting tales.

This list of stories pertains to my father, he seems to be the "whack-o" in the family. The crazy dare-devil one. The stories are in order from his youth till the present.

My first story is of my dad when he was a kid about my age. He lived in Rochester, New York with his parents. They lived at the bottom of a somewhat steep road, paved but choked with gravel sized pebbles. My dad was the kind of kid who did things without thinking about the result of what would happen. He had a bike, with the kind of pedals where when you turned them backwards, the back tire would lock and if you were going fast enough you bike would skid. He decided he wanted to do this after he had reached the bottom of the hill, after speeding down from the top. Trying to skid while going in a turn, not a good idea. He ended up having his face smashed against the graveled road, and someone who saw him had to carry him to his mother.

This next story is not as long as the previous one, and does not have as much of a painful outcome. My father was riding motorcycles somewhere on the mainland with a few friends, during a cross country journey when he decided he would be a bird. I have no idea what motivated him to do this, maybe it was peer-pressure of impressing his friends. So whatever drove him to riding his motorcycle with his arms extended to the sides flapping like a bird, also got him a ticket. This story is special because this was my dads first ticket, from both categories of moving and stationary violations.

My dad, obviously did not learn from the first story, to learn about how something can cause injury to you before doing it, so he attempted to go bodyboarding at the infamous Sandy Beach.
I might add that "attempt" implies failure. He was not an avid waterman and obviously did not know much about the beach. He did not realize the bone-crushing power of Sandy's, a.k.a. "break-neck beach". He got pitched in the lip, and pinned to the sand by the hundreds of gallons of water coming down on him with enough force to easily snap bones. His eardrum was blown out by the pressure of the wave. My mom recalls looking at him with blood dripping out of his ear.

"Checking what time he is going to die" - Jessie Shain

My last story is more recent. But, again, is of my dad doing something stupid. Shark's Cove on the north shore, has a small cave that goes through the main rock structure thing. My dad thought it would be cool to swim through it, so he swam out past the rocks, then tried to come through the cave. He didn't think to time his entry with the waves, so he just swam in right when he got to the entrance. The waves weren't big, there weren't any "waves" at all, just the water moving up about a foot a few times a minute. He ended up hitting his head on the cave, and getting some 15 stiches on the top of his head.

Don't you think he would've learned his lesson the first few times? I'd think so.

Why a blog?

The purpose of this web blog is to easily convey my writing to anyone who wishes to read it. Putting something on the Internet is putting something up on a world wide bulletin board. Anyone that can access the bulletin board, can also access any piece of information that is posted on the board. There is no such thing as a private web page. Although a web page may seem to have restricted access, a hacker can easily attain access through manipulating the security feature being used. This further proves that anything on the internet, is accessible, if you have the right tools, to anyone on the internet.

Not only is information viewable to anyone, it is also viewable until it is taken off of the "bulletin board". These words will be on the internet forever, or until I click remove post. But, if someone has already viewed it, and saved the web page, they still have it.

These are only a couple of reasons a blog is a great way to express yourself. This blog also enables me to "write" legibly. With the pencil or pen, my letters may look funny to others, but with a universal look to the alphabet, there will be no guess work while reading a piece.
A google search can connect you with people who think alike, with people who oppose each other, or with people who can help each other. A search of "Why a blog?" would turn up this exact web page, and when a person comes to this web page, they would not only read this post, but also read my other posts.

My classmates also have access to my writing, and my personality through what I post on my blog, my teacher as well. Great for completing assignments, as the internet moves much faster than the real world. It takes less than a second for a page of words to be embeded into the internet. How long does it take to print a page full of words? Pictures, videos, javascripts, html codes, flash movies, flash games, the list goes on and on with what you can do near instantly, most of which are not ever going to be placed on a simple piece of paper.
Are any more reasons on why a blog necessary?

Who am I?

What do you recognize as a dream? To me a dream is a fantasy, a fantasy that motivates a person to discard reality, a fantasy that everyone encounters. The #1 definition for a dream is "a succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind during sleep"(dictionary.com)

What is a fantasy? A fantasy (dictionary.com) is "imagination, esp. when extravagant and unrestrained". Thats pretty much what I was thinking, something so unrealistic it seems almost impossible to accomplish.


This man has a fantasy, a fantasy of having the woman of his dreams with him. Unfortunately, that is not the case, so he has rejected reality and substituted his own-(Mythbusters.)

Take a close look at your daily life. Do you notice yourself doing this? Once you carefully examine your thoughts and actions during the day, you will realize that you too do not accept life the way it is, but change it to satisfy yourself.

I try to accept things the way the come to me, taking them head-on, not avoiding the inevitable. I try to do this, but try implies failure. I do not like to fail, but trying to not fail is comparable to playing with fire and not getting burned, the longer you try, the higher chance you have of failing.

Back to what a dream is. I had a dream. I wanted to be a urban ninja. I know, what a weird dream, but I find myself thinking things are cool when not everyone does them. Not very many people, ok noone, I know is an urban ninja. That is what motivated me to become one. But, after about ten minutes of training, I decided I couldnt achieve it. That is a lot better than spending years trying to accomplish the impossible.



By reading what I typed in the previous paragrah, you can assume a lot about me. I've told you what I find cool, which can tell a lot about a person. Now for what I dislike. "Clicks" or whatever they call them, not only the idea of clicks, but the people who feel they need to categorize people.
Over popular things. Myspace is a perfect example, almost everyone I know, except for a few choice people, have a myspace. The concept of myspace is great, but I refuse to join the boat of people making a poorly structured webpage.

Spending extra money where it doesnt have to be spent. I buy clothes just like everyone else, but I dont buy clothes that cost many times more than they need to. A t-shirt at costco costs about $9.oo, a t-shirt at a designer store costs about 2-5 times as much, for something so similar that most people could not tell the difference, unless they took a close look. I buy jeans from Ross, they cost about $12.oo a pair, when I'm at the mall I see signs in stores that they have jeans on sale for $25.99. Maybe it is because they are the profesionally ripped, or weathered jeans.

Those are a few things I dislike. I'll post a more indepth list later.

That should give you a good idea about myself, I've told you what I like, what I dislike, and tried to make you think a bit about why I like and don't like the things I do.