Severed heads, etc.

You know how there are some things you just can't tell your parents? Like when a fatal shooting happens just two blocks from your house? That is, two blocks from my house. On Tuesday.

I didn't hear the shots, but I saw the crime scene. Medical examiner van, a fleet of cop cars, investigators in suits standing around everywhere. The whole block wrapped in caution tape. Just when we thought we were safe. Mom? Dad? Are you reading this? (Here's where we find out if my parents actually follow my blog.)

Despite how this sounds, I really do live in a good area. I frequently have to slip through crowds of bums on the corner to get to my front door (protected by an immense wrought iron gate), and some nights I can hear the tormented cries of lifelong junkies through my bedroom window (also protected by wrought iron). Really, though, the Upper Haight is a pretty nice neighborhood. But a shooting? By Buena Vista Park with its expensive homes and their expensive views? This just didn't sound right.

Turns out, it was some criminal from Orange County who had somehow made his way up here in a stolen vehicle and managed to get himself shot by the police by running at them when they tried to arrest him. Pure coincidence that he ended up in my lovely corner of San Francisco, from what I can tell (see more here). So, Mom and Dad, not to worry. Let's just hope those folks down south can contain their suspected bank robbers from now on.

Speaking of foul play, the next night I was having dinner at a friend's place and saw this on their refrigerator:

He had told his mother that he was planning a vacation in Mexico, and she sent him that newspaper clipping in the mail. The best part is that she wasn't joking, at least not entirely. I like his initials there on the top of the index card. I imagine her collecting these absurd and grotesque bits of articles with a pile of index cards neatly stacked on the table next to her, initialing each one so she remembers which of her children to send them to. I have no idea if she actually does this, but you can picture it, right?

I'm lucky that my parents don't worry too much; or if they do, I don't hear about it. And they're lucky that I keep my wits about me and don't do anything stupid. Speaking of stupid, I also found this on my friends' refrigerator:
And on that note, here's wishing you all a weekend with lots of beer and very few severed heads. Try not to get shot, either.


  1. S. D ., What, me worry? I just hope your dad doesn't read your blog! Love, Mom

  2. Definitely a scary situation, but luckily it wasn't someone from your neighborhood!

    Also, tell your friend he'll be fine vacationing in Mexico... unless he's working for the drug cartel. If he is, then he'd probably be safer going to Nova Scotia or something.

  3. Glad to hear it was an out-of-towner bank robber! But that Mexico business is no joke. Now if she used your friendly neighborhood shooting as a reason not to come visit you, I might accuse her of being overly cautious but I think she brings up a fair argument about Mexico there. And I think the U.S. gov't might back her up:



  4. That shit happens in Mexico all the time, you do have to be a safe traveler there, no matter what those tourist vacation commercials say...it's not really like this:
    It's more like this: