Sunday, July 20, 2008

Years Past: Part II

You know how some people like confrontation, or a debate? They like a good argument, something to stir their mind, and yes some just like to do a bang-up job of making others feel stupid.

Well my husband was that way, only instead of words he used his fist's. You might say he was a fighter. He liked a good street fight now and again whether he won or lost it didn't matter, at least not too much.

As he got older I suppose this died a bit, and tragically (to some) marriage seemed to domesticate him even more. However he occasionally would still be on the lookout for a good fight.
This was New Year's 2003, Joe in all his glory was quite proud of the beaut of a shiner (it turned a gorgeous purple after a few hours) and the good 8 or so stitches needed for that lip.

After spending New Years Eve down in Waikiki, striking midnight while we were on the beach, and around town till the wee hours of the morning, we were walking along preparing to figure a way back to the other side of the island for our group which though dwindled down from the beginning of the night still included quite a few. Up ahead there seemed to be a disturbance of some sort and as we got closer it was apparent that a number of young men were calling out to some young women. While the ladies did not appear to speak english it seemed as though they were trying to move on. Two of the girls were able to speed up and proceed on course but one of their group was physically restrained by one of the young men. Joe told the guy to let her go, which thankfully he did, but Joe continued to scold (the nicest way I can put it) him. As this escalated more and more of each group became involved until someone punched Joe in the back of the head and it turned into a good scramble. Gina and myself, the only two women of our group and both pregnant at the time, tried to stay out of the way as much as possible and let it run it's course, which it did ending with that group of boys taking off and leaving our group with many lumps and bruises. I only hope ours inflicted as many as were received.

9 comments:

Drea July 20, 2008 at 12:05 PM  

wow he was banged up in that pic! Im sure you didnt domesticate him 2 much :-) he looks like he was a tough guy. But not in a bad way. Love the photo of you two.. you are just stunning in that picture! I like you hair with the curl.

Drea July 20, 2008 at 12:05 PM  

oh and i see one of his tattoos in that pic :-)

Mason and Terri's Mom July 20, 2008 at 1:37 PM  

Theres a bit of a fighter in all of us. I am more like Joe in that sense, but I believe my children have made me more domestic. . . for sure!

If you ever doubt you can fight, take you child to a park and let a big kid pick on them, or another parent say something nasty to your baby. THEN you'll see it!

BTW...Miss Providence is the perfect combination of her mommy and daddy. You have a beautiful (tad bit eccentric) lit'l girl!! :o)

Mason and Terri's Mom July 20, 2008 at 1:39 PM  

Oh and not to correct you but if I'm not mistaken "to domesticate" means to "house break" an animal. ::snickering::

delete this comment!

MomS/Gram July 20, 2008 at 7:33 PM  

I loved reading this story. I remember you sent me a picture the next morning of Joey sleeping with his shiner and stitched lip. I hope you tell many more stories, they are priceless!

Lis July 20, 2008 at 8:41 PM  

Andrea- Thats someone else's elbow, not Joe's tattoo.

EliZabeth- Domesticate can pertain to people, animals or even plants...

do·mes·ti·cate
tr.v
1. To cause to feel comfortable at home; make domestic.
2. To adopt or make fit for domestic use or life.
Verb
1. to bring or keep (wild animals or plants) under control or cultivation
2. to accustom (someone) to home life

Lovingtolove July 21, 2008 at 10:06 AM  

Boys will be boys!

That is a great picture...I'm guessing,pre-fight picture :)

Drea July 21, 2008 at 1:20 PM  

really? haha! well. I know he had them some place. SO I wasnt sure.

Momathon July 25, 2008 at 7:29 PM  

What a great story.
Isn't it warming to ponder the characteristics that make people who they are? Even if one could change them, they just shouldn't be changed. :-)

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