I Used to Be The Kind of Guy Who Laughs at a Funeral

Death was an inevitable part of life, so it didn't matter when it came. Having accepted my Savior into my heart, I thought I would be okay with dying... until yesterday. Every person I've known that had passed away was sort of like a statistic; they were old (at least to me) and had lived long, accomplished lives. Even at that, they were even less unexpected because cancer would show up or something like that that would start a clock that could prepare you for reality.

I didn't really know Morgan. I went to the same school as her since 1997 (that is over 2,000 school days if you care to count) and yet the only classes I know we had in common were in fourth and fifth grade, and that's only because I have yearbooks to check that. I don't have any specific memories of her from school, either; I just remember that she smiled an awful lot and was always so cheerful.

She was also very enthusiastic in church. I always saw her there, and that's where I can recall my only two specific memories. When I started going to youth nights on Wednesdays back in 2007, I didn't know most people's names and was certainly not friends with anyone except one or two I knew beforehand. I remember one of those nights Morgan walked up to me and said, "Hi Ryan Pace. I bet you don't remember my name." Not only did she remember my name even though I don't think we had ever had a conversation before, but she also implied I wouldn't remember hers! Anytime I saw her from that point on, I addressed her by her full name (that's something I do for everyone who ever calls me "Ryan Pace").

My only other specific memory happened just last Sunday. It is short and wasn't memorable; I passed her leaving church. I took a sort of jagged route in the other direction to avoid the-what-I-always-find-weird "hi *insert name here*" exchange that is inevitable when two people pass each other on an empty sidewalk and one of them is extremely friendly. There were people behind me, so I don't know who that "hi" was to, but I hope it wasn't me. It wasn't personal or anything, so I don't know if I should feel guilty or not.

At least we all know that Morgan is in a better place now, just no one expected her departure to be so soon.

Political Activism

So today at church the topic of the sermon was marriage. It is the first of three weeks of covering topics with political consequences that we normally try to avoid out loud because society has taught us to keep our beliefs to ourselves, for the most part. The three main threats to marriage are divorce, cohabitation, and same-sex marriage.

For the first one, 49% of American marriages end in it. That is half. Both the adults and the childrens who are affected by a divorce are worse off.

For the second, there was a key point with blanks. Move ______ or make a _______. I knew the first one was "out," but I figured the second one was "baby." It was actually "commitment."

On same-sex marriages, they played a video of street interviews of people on the gay-marriage amendment in California. Most of the people said it should be allowed since it is their lives and we have no right to keep them from marrying. So then the question was that if two men could marry, should three men be allowed to? They all said no. Same for marrying relatives. I just thought it was really funny the double standard we have going there.

I got my mom to buy a "Yes on Amendment 2" sign to put in our front yard, even if we're not supposed to. I'm starting to think the passage of this simple amendment stating only that marriage is defined as between one man and one woman (doesn't take away domestic partnership benefits, so calm down) is the most important thing to be voted on November 4.

Then when I was walking to the car after lunch, I noticed a group of about ten people standing around the back of a van led by some old guy with really long hair, and I saw at least one sign. I knew it was for Obama because no hippie-looking old dude would ever vote for McCain. Whatever they were doing was cool with me, anyway. Except then I saw the guy's shirt. It was a giant picture of Obama. That's just a bit too creepy for me.

I got to play Rock Band 2 yesterday. Awesome! I also want to host a Rock Band party thing, but I don't know when or if I will actually go through with it this time...

Bambi and Philosophy

I'm sick. Colds suck. If I were going to be sick, I would rather it be with something worse than a cold on the weekend so I am actually facing something worthwhile. Instead, I feel miserable and forget for a whole week what it feels like to not be sick.

On Saturday, September 6, 2003, the Florida Gators and Miami Hurricanes faced off in an epic game. The same holds true five years later, even though it wasn't as big as ESPN was trying to make it sound. On that day, long ago, the Gators were up by several touchdowns over the team that had made it to the championship game the last two season. I was not watching this, though. For, you see, the Pace family was in the pet store at the Tallahassee Mall hoping to adopt a new cat.

We had a black cat named Domino my whole life until I was six and in first grade when he had to be put down on Halloween because of organ failure or something I didn't understand so I hid in the closet and cried all day. He was an evil cat who attacked anyone who got near him, but we all grow fond of pets when you have them their entire lives regardless. The next year, Carmel the dalmatian (yes, that is how you spell it; nothing irks me more regarding the entire dog world than someone spelling it "dalmation") joined. She is still hobbling around, old so that every night for the last two years I've feared walking outside and discovering her dead.

While I was away at my cousin's ninth birthday party, my family adopted another dog for reasons I don't know. Jack is a Labrador retriever named after my mom's brother who was taken in earlier this year by some family in Massachusetts, or somewhere very far away, I think, because our neighbors are evil and make him bark and then go crazy about it.

On that Saturday night three weeks or so into my sixth grade school year, we left without a cat, but with a Senegal parrot I would name Aerial and a long-haired miniature dachshund to-be-named Molly. The Hurricanes would go on to make an amazing comeback and defeat the Gators, something I remember them doing again against Louisville the next year on the same day as my field trip to EPCOT. I got home and everything went downhill there. I have since learned not to tune into games when I need the team I hate so dearly is getting crushed improbably or else I will regret it forever and still be able to remember about it years later, like in this case.

INTERMISSION

Yes, that's right, this is a two-part post. I don't think it will even be as long as my lengthiest entries, but I have something about my past and my philosophy that aren't related. I only came up with this part an hour ago after reading an article after it had a headline on Yahoo! Not the best credentials, but there's something to it. Also, yeah, I had the idea about posting about September 6, 2003, come to me several days ago when I realized this freaky occurrence at such a major anniversary as five years, exactly (Miami and Florida haven't even played in a couple of years).

My title for this post exclusively refers to this section. The article I am talking about is at http://animals.howstuffworks.com/pets/dogs-perceive-time.htm and will make you hate me for its encouragement for what I am about to say.

Animals don't have souls or complex feelings and emotion, if any real, like humans. While this doesn't mean we have the right to purposely harm them (though many hypocritely will, or ask someone else in fear, swat bugs) for no reason, I still consider humans much above animals. That's why I find it funny when people get crazy over animals not being treated "humanely." As crazy as it seems, Bambi is not as realistic as you might think it is.

The article isn't that long and talks about animals perception (or lack thereof) of time. All animals have similar thoughts (or lack thereof). It also adds something to my long-standing belief, to which I think a saying for it also exists: Time is human's greatest invention. It's one of the most defining things that separates us from them.

I cannot go anywhere without my watch.

I would go on to the philosophy part (if you really want to know, ask me about it), but I have already spent over half an hour typing this up when I should be getting some sleep. This is not because I am sick but because my mom will force me to go to church this morning so I can get everyone worshipping the Lord sick. I will have no problem going to school on Monday and giving students the cold, though. Just kidding.