I love my family for a number of reasons, even for reasons I used to hate them for. Like when my dad used to show up to my high school basketball games in Zubbas and sandles (in the dead of winter) and proceed to yell much louder than the other parents for me to attack the basket (even when I was on the bench, which was the position I was best at).

Today on the subway my iPod was shuffling and a recording that I made two years while we were on vacation on the Orgen coast popped up. I hadn’t remembered recording it, but I can surmise my rationale behind doing so: OMG, this conversation is really happening, I must record it.  

This 9 minute conversation basically sums up my who my siblings and I are as people. Some might be tempted to call that “loud, opinionated d-bags,” but I’m partial to the term Rabble Rousers.

Whatever we are, I’m glad we’re this way. When I’m not with my family, which in my adult life has been most of the time, I miss them a lot, so when my iPod shuffled from Josh Ritter to hearing us argue passionately about what was the most peaceful way to die, it made my day. It feels too irrelevantly good not to post, so here it is (sorry mom, I suspect some of us are not sober in this conversation).

Most Peaceful Way To Die

Oh, and lest we forget Calvin, who did not make an appearance in our 2011 family Christmas photo because he was being selfish and studying medicine in the Caribbean so that he could become a doctor (that’s why we adopted him, all for the biological kids so far have studied liberal arts).