Sibling Revelry

Sibling Revelry may just be the coolest name for a store. It's a funky little (expensive) store in downtown Corvallis which offers up interesting clothing and accessories, plus an assortment of gifts.

But really, I've got absolutely nothing to say about the store. I just wanted to use the name while I hijack The Corvallist today to wish a happy birthday to my older brother, who actually reads my little blog. Our family has an odd anti-tradition of never actually sending cards on time (except for his wife, who is an awesome card-sending goddess), so I'm cheating a bit... but he's been to Corvallis once, so I figure that counts.

I couldn't get the picture scanned in time for this post, but my favorite picture of the two of us as kids is this picture where we are on a beach (Florida? Puerto Rico?) when I was about 2 and he would've been 10 or 11. He's writing something in the sand with a shell or rock and I'm paying rapt attention, which may or may not have actually been the case, but the snapshot captured something I like.

When I was a bit older, he taught me how to play chess and handicapped himself by removing the queen, a bishop, a rook and a knight from his starting lineup. He would still kick my ass, of course. I can't remember ever actually winning, even with that huge advantage.

When I was in 4th grade and earnestly doing research for my upcoming report on Clara Barton, my brother looked over my shoulder and offered up his own information about Ms. Barton's tragic demise. The encyclopedia we had didn't have any details, but my brother explained that she suffered serious gastrointestinal distress and died in severe pain. I believed every word, until he came to the punchline, which was some variation of "Clara Barton died a-fartin'." I think I was genuinely pissed at the time, but I can't think about it now without cracking up.

Later still, when I was 16 and had recently graduated from high school, I flew to Greece to stay with my brother and his wife for 3 amazing weeks. They gave me a neat tour of relatively non-touristy sites and treated me like an adult, which I definitely was not. But I felt utterly grown up and cool.

He's a true mensch who always seems to know what to say. He delivered the perfect toast at my wedding and the perfect eulogy at our dad's funeral. I love him to pieces and only regret that I don't get to see him very often because he lives 3000 miles away.

He's my favorite libertarian AND he will always be older than me. ; )

Love you, Bro. Happy Birthday!