"NEWS ON THE RADIO, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY"

I'm telling you, this is the year of milestones. Yesterday was not only a milestone anniversary for my parents, and a milestone birthday for my uncle, but today is a very important milestone birthday for my brother, the very talented photographer, returning full-time student, geological enthusiast and politically and environmentally savvy fellow. He's the kind of guy I'm be glad to be friends with, relative or not.

So, the story of my brother's birthday goes like this: I was in grade school and my Dad woke me up early flew me into some sweet green elastic waistband pants and flowery awesome-collar shirt and a red sweater and hurriedly got me to school. "Daddy, what's going on?" I asked. "You're mom's ready to have this thing." This thing. Thing? So, I was dropped off at school just before sunrise, my folks took off in the sweet wood-paneled station wagon, and I was only aware that there was a thing on the way. I'm foggy on the details here, but I believe that my Dad got my mom to the hospital and then returned, realizing he'd left a young child out front of an unopened grade school in a large city. Or, my brain might have made that up to keep me out of therapy. Whatever. Later that afternoon, my Dad came to school, and pulled me out in the hall and told me I had a little brother. I looked at him, blinked, scoffed, I think, and said, "Oh, well, I wanted a sister."

Then, I ran away from home, getting an entire ten feet from the house. Impressive. Anyway, after years of beating the crap out of each other, we eventually became friends. And, that about brings us up to today. Anyway, my brother thinks this story is retarded, so I, of course, tell it every year on his birthday. Happy Birthday, you. I wish I could be there to celebrate with you.