Human skull, on the ground, turn around...
Oct. 3rd, 2003 09:02 amIt's not every day you get to drop a great conversational bomb into a lunchtime chat with a friend like, "Dad's in Idaho this week returning a human skull." I mean, let's face it, what's not fun about saying "human skull" as often as possible (not to mention the fact that it brings up They Might Be Giants' song Turn Around every time I say those words, and then I laugh because I think of the Media Cannibals' vid). I still don't even know the full story, but my nearly 80-year-old dad decided to drive over to southern Idaho this week to return a human skull he's had since he was a kid, to the sheriff's office. One day he explained all this, how he and his brother found it in a riverbed when they were young, and why he kept it, but I kind of zoned on it.
Apparently my (sensible) cousin encouraged him to think that maybe, just maybe, it didn't belong to some ancient Indian burial ground or whatever image he and my uncle had concocted to make themselves believe it was okay to keep it, but possibly to a crime scene, or simply to someone's grave from pioneer days, and that it might be nice for them to have the skeleton in one piece for the afterlife. It always makes me a bit nervous to have my dad driving long, difficult distances on his own, but I think he saw it as an adventure, one last shot at doing something risky and bizarre, a last hurrah for youth. He learned to drive in the army during WWII, and as a truck driver for a tank battalion, he necessarily had to become a very skilled driver, as he was constantly under fire. And some of the stories he tells me scare the crap out of me, but he was like a lot of soldiers -- flying in the face of death, casually accepting the potential of impending doom. As he's gotten older, there have been few chances to do something wild and dangerous.
I told him to bring money in case he ended up in the local pokey, and to call me if he needed me to bail him out. He thought it was all very funny, but I think he's always wondered about the skull, and was too afraid or embarassed to follow up on its return. For a long while, decades, I believe, my uncle had it. Dad was reading about an archeological dig near where it was found, so I guess that finally, along with my cousin, spurred him into action. He called late last night to tell me he was home, safe, and that the sheriff had thanked him, told him they'd look into it, and they'd had a nice long conversation. Yay for Dad not going to slam!
Now, of course, I have to ask him to retell the story, so I can get the details. Like a lot of older men of that generation, my dad was never a talker as I grew up, but when he retired, he suddenly became Chatty Cathy. Sometimes his stories meander so far I can't keep up with them, and I missed many of the details on this one. But since it's so fun to discuss my dad and his human skull, I need to fill the rest of this story in. Might be something I can use in my writing someday.
On another note, I finally sent a draft of the Heliotrope sequel to
sweet_ali, my beta, last night. I know a lot of you think I've abandoned the fic, but I haven't.I doubt anyone would be interested, but I could post a snippet of the (unbetaed) story just to prove it (I'm still alive!), though I fear that looks like I'm fishing for praise. I'm not much of a snippets girl, but I could get over it. ;-) Or, maybe I could just do it for
monanotlisa, since she's having such a bad time right now. Hey, there's a thought... I like that plan.
Apparently my (sensible) cousin encouraged him to think that maybe, just maybe, it didn't belong to some ancient Indian burial ground or whatever image he and my uncle had concocted to make themselves believe it was okay to keep it, but possibly to a crime scene, or simply to someone's grave from pioneer days, and that it might be nice for them to have the skeleton in one piece for the afterlife. It always makes me a bit nervous to have my dad driving long, difficult distances on his own, but I think he saw it as an adventure, one last shot at doing something risky and bizarre, a last hurrah for youth. He learned to drive in the army during WWII, and as a truck driver for a tank battalion, he necessarily had to become a very skilled driver, as he was constantly under fire. And some of the stories he tells me scare the crap out of me, but he was like a lot of soldiers -- flying in the face of death, casually accepting the potential of impending doom. As he's gotten older, there have been few chances to do something wild and dangerous.
I told him to bring money in case he ended up in the local pokey, and to call me if he needed me to bail him out. He thought it was all very funny, but I think he's always wondered about the skull, and was too afraid or embarassed to follow up on its return. For a long while, decades, I believe, my uncle had it. Dad was reading about an archeological dig near where it was found, so I guess that finally, along with my cousin, spurred him into action. He called late last night to tell me he was home, safe, and that the sheriff had thanked him, told him they'd look into it, and they'd had a nice long conversation. Yay for Dad not going to slam!
Now, of course, I have to ask him to retell the story, so I can get the details. Like a lot of older men of that generation, my dad was never a talker as I grew up, but when he retired, he suddenly became Chatty Cathy. Sometimes his stories meander so far I can't keep up with them, and I missed many of the details on this one. But since it's so fun to discuss my dad and his human skull, I need to fill the rest of this story in. Might be something I can use in my writing someday.
On another note, I finally sent a draft of the Heliotrope sequel to
no subject
Date: 2003-10-03 11:09 am (UTC)::a truckload of virtual hugs::
You know I adore your fiction, so a snippet? Oh, wouldn't that be luverly?
Of course, the day has already brightened after a sweet and spiffy girl on #efnet sent me a small but totally sufficient version of what I was craving. & :->
no subject
Date: 2003-10-03 12:47 pm (UTC)Hee. And very true. Keeping it all that time is pretty impressive, although not quite so much as returning it, I guess.
And a sequel to Heliotrope? Yay! ::jumps up and down in excitement::
no subject
Date: 2003-10-03 05:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-03 06:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-03 06:57 pm (UTC)Now, maybe I can tell you my family's twisted stories and you can give me a novel.
Your dad sounds cool. Nag him hard. Nothing's sadder than stories lost to time.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-03 07:08 pm (UTC)Just wanted to add I was in the same position with my mom. I ended up using a microcassette recorder and just started asking questions. The recorder was small to enough to ignore after a while and talking about something was a lot less intimidating the committing it to paper.
Now I am officially done spamming your journal and am off to read the Heliotrope sequel snippet.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-03 05:51 pm (UTC)