Sibling Revelry

Wouldn’t it be great if everyone dear to us knew how we felt about them? I have several times in my life thought to sit down and write to each special person in my life, telling them in great detail how they have touched and bettered my time here. I have done so on occasion, and it has been met with heartfelt gratitude and appreciation. After writing one such letter to my father, he called me and thanked me for putting the words down on paper, so that he might have the chance to read them again, rather than attempt to recapture those wispy sentiments that would surely have slipped into forgotten-ville or less-meaningful-land. Anyhow, my brother, Geoff, who is master of all things that are this blog, chose to do this very thing for each one of his siblings in 2008, save my sister, Stacey, the youngest, whose birthday precipitated this wonderful, post-August tradition for praising his siblings on their birthday, and will, thus, have to wait until late next month to be lauded. We thought it fitting then, that our brother be the recipient of such a gift as he has bestowed upon each one of us. We also thank him for letting us crash his blog.  -Laura-

From Leta:

HEADKNOCKER

July 23rd, 1964. Envision a small family standing in front of an elevator smiling and waving goodbye to their mom. She was seated in a wheelchair, smiling back. The father informed the small boy and slightly older girl that the next time they saw mommy they would have a new brother or sister. The girl was overheard saying woohoo! OK, now let’s get to Aunt Bonnies house so we can go swimming!!! Such are the feelings of a self-absorbed eight year old.

Fast forward a few years to a bright sunny day. Picture a shopping cart and seventeen kids running around playing. Now picture one of those kids (the birthday boy) climbing into the shopping cart while the skinny neighbor shoves it off the curb and into the street. Lastly, picture older sister running into house screaming to mother that youngest brother had cracked his head WIDE open. (A footnote should be added at this point that states sister is a very big exaggerator). A quick trip to the emergency room, 4 or 5 stitches and all was well.

Circa 1985. Same birthday boy, same emergency room. The doctor looks at the patient and asks just how he received his injuries. Well the back injury occurred when the wedge he used at work, to split wood to cook bbq, slipped and flew up into the air and hit him in the shoulder blade. Second injury was later in the day. Same wedge slipped and hit him in the leg. Doctor told him it was a good thing he didn’t work all day or he may have ended up killing himself with that wedge. Patient chuckled and told the doctor not to worry. He was a little accident prone….had his head sewed up seven times before he was 3, the first time happened when this neighbor kid with a shopping cart…

Jump ahead quite a few years and read something called a blog written by none other than birthday boy. What’s this? A picture of a van….and it is surrounded by……shopping carts.

Happy Birthday Geoff!! Thanks for the opportunity to share with your readers a few little tidbits about you. One day soon I hope to have pictures of the Hoppity Hop Hill of Doom and a few others that you have mentioned along the way. I Love You, Leta.

From Steve:

YEE HAW!

So the year/years are somewhere between the late 60′s to maybe mid-very early 70′s; time slips my mind; maybe early fall, and all the guys in the neighborhood decide to go to the Circle K at the cross roads. Somehow after leaving the store all had acquired many cans of tobacco…raspberry, mint, etc. Geoff, as I recall at the time, might have been 8-9 at best. So that afternoon brought all of us back to Marwood Park and delving into the fruits of our labor. Late the next afternoon would find both me and Geoff out in Dad’s shop being confronted by Dad and wondering how on earth we had acquired so many cans of tobacco without a dime to our name. Long story short, both of us were threatened within an inch of our lives that we would never dip tobacco again or we would suffer the consequences. Jump ahead a few years to high school and big brother picking up the habit of dipping on a regular basis. Wasn’t long before little brother (maybe with a little help from me) decided that if he wanted to be cool and have all the girls after him he had to carry a can of tobacco in his back pocket. So began the family legacy of Skoal cans on the bedroom shelf. Plans were that if we could get enough cans saved possibly we might get U.S. Tobacco to send us a couple of rolls or maybe even a case if we could amass enough cans. All we had to do was spell out “SKOAL” on the football field at Zach White. As the years passed the cans grew by leaps and bounds and shortly after I moved out we had saved over 5000 cans. Unfortunately neither me nor Geoff ever did anything with those cans other than leave them as we moved on to be cleaned out by a wonderful woman; our Mother.

My brother hopefully today will be a pleasurable day for you as you celebrate your Birthday with family and friends. Here’s hoping that you experience the same joy in this day that you bring to others. I love you….Steve

From Laura:

SUNSET OVER THE STATE LINE

I could spend pages writing about my brother, what he has meant to me, how I idolized him growing up, how I longed to be included in anything he deemed worthy of his time, how I used to sneak into his closet and abscond with his favorite concert t-shirt, as if the wearing of it would somehow transport me to his level of coolness, how much I appreciated his protective shield when it came to my first forays into dating, how his musical influence on me continues to this day - but the attempt would only serve as a fruitless effort to describe him fully. I will share but one important insight into what kind of brother he was, is, and what kind of man he remains.  Keep in mind that he was just 21 when he imparted the following pearl of wisdom upon me.

The most important lesson I ever learned from Geoff came to me at the age of sixteen. It was my first night working at the State Line restaurant, a place that became for Geoff, myself, and my sister, Stacey, a home away from home as we racked up almost thirty years there collectively. Geoff had been working there for over five years when he scored a job as a hostess for his little sis. I was in awe that first night. Not only was I making real money that I would have to pay taxes on, but I was able to hang out with my brother and all of his cool friends. People I had known and admired from afar, and some I had only heard about as we sat and made our mixed cassette tapes together. At the end of the shift, he drove me home. We pulled up to the house and sat in his car before going in. “So what’d you think?” he asked me, knowing full well I was about to pop with excitement. I went on and on about the evening, asking him about so and so, and what he or she was like, and were they as nice as they seemed or really secret jerks who shorted the busboys on tips when they checked out? I got nothing. No gossip, no stories, no pent up resentment for the waiter or waitress who might have rubbed him the wrong way. Absolutely nothing. Instead, he said this to me: “You know, Laura, I’m not going to say one word about anyone. I want you to meet these people and make your own judgments about them. Whether you like them or not shouldn’t have anything to do with whether or not I do. You’ll have to make up your own mind.” I remember even as he was saying it, realizing the profundity of his words, that I would carry that with me the rest of my life. And I have. Happy Birthday, Geoff. I love you mucho. Thanks for always treating me with love, kindness, and generosity.

From Stacey:

BACK IN THE DAY BEFORE THE DAY

My brother Geoff has always been the life of the party and the comedian in the family.  He has a knack for making friends and making people feel comfortable.  He is a loving, devoted father and husband, the likes of which I have rarely seen.  When it comes to his sisters, he is fiercely protective and known not to budge when it comes to demanding respect of them from others.  I am lucky enough to be one of those sisters and have always loved having my big brother looking after me.  Our family is very close and always has been.  We have been referred to as, “the Walton’s” by those who are not as fortunate.  To us, this has always been a compliment.

Growing up, Geoff was a “cool” big brother.  He was a handsome, Tom Cruise look alike that all the girls had a crush on.  He was an athlete as well and played on the Coronado football team.  This was a very cool thing to do.  Because he was on the football team, he would have to sell “spirit ribbons” each week before a game.  Of course, he hired his little sisters to help him with the task.  I was in junior -high at the time and would gladly take his spirit ribbons to school with me in an attempt to help him out.  Believe it or not (I’m not making this up) girls would buy these ribbons from me because my brother had TOUCHED them.  That’s right, because his hands had once held them.  Can you imagine?

Even with such adoration from females and a genuine respect from every male in school, Geoff never let it go to his head.  He has always been a sensible, down to earth guy.  In his 20’s, Geoff became the manager at a very popular restaurant in town.  He got me my first job there.  My first night of work, someone made the mistake of commenting on “the cute new girl” to my brother.  It was quickly made very clear that this person would in no way be allowed to get close to me.  About five years later, this person and I had begun dating.  We had to call an emergency meeting with my sister Laura to figure out how we were going to tell Geoff.  After much discussion and a few cups of “liquid courage,” Geoff came in.  We explained to him that we had been dating for a while and that we were serious about each other.  We waited with apprehension to get “approval.”  Geoff gave us his blessing (what is this, the Godfather?) and we were together for a very long time.  It still brings a smile to my face to think about that night.  It wasn’t that I needed his approval, but I wanted it.  C’mon, he’s my big brother!

I have so many great memories of you Geoff, that I could go on forever.  I remember playing “socks off” and “trip” when we were little.  We didn’t need to buy games, we made them up.  Remember 52 card pick up? I remember you  teasing me with the promise of giving me your “Beth” 45 in order to get me to do just about anything. I remember being in Santa Fe and that you and Laura were the only friends I had—and that was GREAT! I remember sitting on the back porch playing Yahtzee while we listened to the “new” Fleetwood Mac album.  I think back to having you home with us and seeing your beautiful children and I smile.

I am so blessed to have you for a brother.  I love you more than you know and I know that I don’t say it enough.  I also know that I am the worst at staying in touch, but I hope you know that I think about you always.  I hope that this birthday is the best one yet and that you are truly happy.  I love you big brother, for all that you have taught me, given me and protected me from.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!  Stace

From NukeDad:

Thanks guys! Wow! This beats expensive presents or cards filled with cash anyday! (mostly)  Here are links to my posts on Leta, Steve and Laura; Stacey, yours will be up in about a month.  Leta, I even linked the Hipptiy-Hop story for you.  I love you all.