Happy Birthday to Captain Dan

My kid brother had his birthday this past Friday. My only contact with him for the day was email. Once upon a time I would have called him and razzed him about getting older but with him being in Iraq that's pretty much impossible. So I sent him a gift card to Amazon and hope he'll get something he will enjoy. I know him and figure it'll be books most likely. So let me give a brief overview of my little brother. First I use that term since everyone who knows us will laugh. He is nearly a foot taller than I am and about 2x my weight. OK- yup, I'm small but he's also big. I am nearly 4 years older so I have no intention of spilling his age (16- hahahahaha). I wanted a puppy, I think that says quite a bit, don't you? The fact that I got a naked, useless, smelly, crying creature was not what I had in mind. I was thinking small, cute, sorta hairy, would grow into a great friend in a few months. In a few months all I had was a smelly, crying, useless in a onesie kinda pet. Needless to say house training him was slow going. We'll get to the leash later. He wasn't all bad, he kept the parents busy and out of my way. So the years went by and still I waited for him to become as fun as my mother promised he would. Finally, after years of torture and pain he's not so useless. Still smelly- his shoes could cripple, not quite as naked but there are laws about that, and less prone to crying than to long amazing strings of profanity. I don't wish he was a puppy as often now.
So let me regale you with some of the moments when I wished he was a puppy- or something wild I could release and never see again. One of the most memorable moments was when, on MY birthday, he announced to my date "Gee XXX, you're not as fat as my sister said you were." I really wanted a suspension of the first commandment for that birthday, although I'm pretty sure it would have been viewed as justifiable homicide had my parents not protected the little spawn of Satan. Little brothers make nice decorations gagged in my opinion- and it could extend their life span. Or how about the story that still makes my mother laugh til her eyes water- the eggs. I like hard boiled eggs and would often boil 6 or 8 at a time. To keep the boiled from getting confused with the fresh (NOT boiled- RAW!!!) eggs I would write HB in pencil on them. Do we all see where this story is going????? OK, so as I come in the kitchen one day and smack the HB egg on the counter and it runs everywhere I realize only the spawn could have done this. According to my mother (who is still straight faced at this point) she was there when my brother (I was switched at birth- where is my rich birth family when I need them?!?) walked in, opened the fridge, took 2 eggs out with the letters HB clearly written on them, peeled and ate them. She did feel the need to mention that I might be aggravated (she is smiling and trying not to laugh by now) so critter says not to worry, takes 2 eggs that have no HB written on them (RAW!!!!), asks her for a pencil- WHICH SHE GIVES HIM, LIKE A GOOD LITTLE ENABLER- and he writes HB and puts them right where he found the other two eggs. By this time she is laughing with no attempt to hide it. The eternal question from this episode of long, long ago- what happened to the second raw HB egg? Dunno- I quit making HB eggs, kept labeling them HB in an attempt to settle the score but I didn't boil another egg until I had my own apartment.
Now that we are both older and some time has passed I don't get mad at him all over again for that. He and I actually get along- as my mother said we would. Now we get along like any two people from a moderately weird family and laugh about the moments we thought would kill us. We laugh about our kids- my 2 and his 3, our lives, our family- that gets some real good laughs and our differences. The size difference is just the start- and the most glaring. Most people would not think we are related unless they spoke to both of us for awhile. A dry sense of humor, odd turns of phrase and a strange candor mark us as related.
Since most people by now think he was only evil as a child, let me give an example of the budding camaraderie as we grew up. No one beat up my brother but me. Twisted logic but hey, we were kids. One day we were home at the same time, watching the news when we saw a piece on a woman with leukemia who needed to find a bone marrow donor. There was a drive at a church not terribly far from us. He looked at me and said "Wanna go?" So we went and got tested and listed as potential donors for someone we never met- cause it seemed like the right thing to do. I think I was about 24 or so. He was 4 years younger then, too. The day that my grandfather died in January 1999, we drove all around making arrangements with the funeral home and then to the VA to get a flag since he had been in the Army in WWII. I remember him showing his Army ID and getting in no problem while I beeped my little heart out in the metal detector. To this day I have no idea what was beeping- I was ready to (and said so out loud) strip naked and go to the 7th floor of the old Dulski Federal building in Buffalo to get the flag but the guard finally waved me over for a hand held wand check- which DIDN"T beep. I had taken off my coat and the pile of stuff on it was impressive- I had no idea jeans pockets could hole so much. My brother made sure to point out I got waved over as I threatened to strip naked- hmmmm I think I was being insulted. We got through the day and got everything set up pretty well for a pair who had never done that sort of thing before. His good friend Dave Z., also Army, showed up in uniform for the service- in a freezing cold damn blizzard- to present the flag and stand at attention for the fallen soldier. I guess he has to be a good guy to have friends like Dave.
So my brother is Army- he's in Iraq for his third time. If all soldiers were as upstanding as my brother there would be no questions about improper behavior. One thing I can say without fear of being challenged- the boy's got Honor. That's right Honor with a capital H. It's a big thing to my family to behave and live an honorable life. He's still my little brother and NOBODY gets to beat him up but me, and his kids and my kids. Nobody else. So I'm going to close this with the same thing I say everyday when I wake up- "God keep him safe and get him home OK."
Happy Birthday kiddo, may you have many, many more.