2/28/09

Brotherly Love

I recently read an article in GQ by about the relationships that many of us have with our brothers. In all of the literature that I’ve read, I never read anything that had aptly surmised the relationship between two brothers...I laughed and cried. My brother and I fought many a holy war over Legos, Nerf, Nintendo, baseball cards, chores, hats, friends, and girls. I must confess that I won many of the battles and we’re not really sure who won the war. But since, history is written by the victors and since I’m the first to pen any version…sweet, oh sweet victory is mine! Besides the Cain and Able dichotomy that my brother and I faced, we also had the added bonus of being twins which multiplied any infraction that occurred. I didn’t realize till after my brother and I graduated High School that we were in constant competition, and I hated it. The earliest battle that I can remember is fighting downstairs in the basement and being yelled at by my mother to, “take it outside.” Of course we did and there was much wrestling until one of us finally pinned the other to the ground, that’s when the spitting, hair-pulling, purple-nurples, fish-hooks, rug-burns, and the “stuffing-of-the-grass” into the mouth, nose or ears took place. As we grew older and wiser, newer tactics of war became more eloquent and subversive. Knives, shovels, belts, Windex in the eyes, rubber band fights, wrestling mat tape, the use of his jeans for toilet paper, taking his hat off and throwing it out of a car or into the canal, turning to sneeze on him while he was driving…these were all in play (except for the face, our unwritten rule) until he finally out muscled me. Even though I had several victories on the battlefield, I can only really remember loosing three wars. The first was in elementary, our family was on our way to Denver to visit my sister, and I wouldn’t stop fighting/annoying him. Finally, my dad pulled the car over, gave me my suitcase and told me I was on my own. They drove away for what seemed like about thirty minutes, it was slightly raining and I had started walking towards a distant town. I wouldn’t quit or let down. I lost. The second battle I lost was in high school, this was a silent battle. As we entered High School, I grew tired of competing. After our freshman year, I made the conscientious choice to do whatever he wasn’t doing. I played golf while he played football; I did track while he did Baseball, our paths played out with little crisscross. This of course lasted for several years, and was like the Cold War between the USA and USSR. At any moment a red button could have been pushed to start the nuclear fallout, and I finally pushed it. Wars begin and end on the same note. The Berlin wall went up and came down to mark the beginning and end of the Cold War. Like the Berlin wall, our war began and ended with a rug-burn. That’s right, our Cold War ended with a rug-burn! Like a defeated USSR, I had to go to High School humiliated for weeks, because like Gorbachev I had a quarter sized mark of shame on my forehead. I retired after that point, but still kept my nuclear arsenal. Upon graduating high school, I never knew if my brother and I would really speak or hangout ever again. We both eventually met at Camp David to sign a peace treaty and have since come to terms with our love and adoration of one another. We now laugh about it, as we reflect upon our hatred, competitiveness and stupidity. But don’t think that even though the Berlin Wall came down, that every now and again someone doesn’t try something with the intent of getting away with it. After all, there’s still fight left within both of us…

1 comment:

TRP said...

lol - Sibling Love...Kindda reminds me of how sometimes we think certain things are soooooo important, then as we mature, we are like 'What was i thinking'