Saw my brother, Lindon, this last weekend. It was the first time since my wedding (and, of course, I had so much going on then I didn't really see much of him there). I've always been told I was very much like him, and I was definitely able to tell some similarities, as I had a good chance to talk with him at length this weekend. Politically and pretty much artistically, there are a lot of ways in which we are very much on at least a similar wavelength; certainly as opposed to others in my household. And he definitely has the Hylton gift of gab. Halfway through our early Thanksgiving in Cedar Rapids, I was thinking "poor Sharon!" Someone once said about our family (honest to God), "You know it's the Grooms (my mom's side, but it runs in all our blood) when everybody is talking at once and no one is listening." I would like to think that, though I talk loud and often, I have some degree of self-consciousness on the matter.
And I guess therein lies what I think is related to maybe the biggest separation between my brother and me: I am self-aware. My brother seems to have managed to spend the last 30 years living this idealized quintessential alternative/artists' lifestyle (though with an almost uncanny ability to end up with hard luck). In many ways it sounds really cool; as though he's really lived life on his own terms and sort of brought into his world that which sort of goes through this filter that which is in concert with this ideal. But somehow, I feel like after a certain amount of time living life like that I would become claustrophobic, almost like Jim Kirk in the Nexus, feeling like I was no longer attatched to that part of pop or normalcy which helps keep me who I am.
My brother has this utter level of comfort with this world of his. I'm a little more self-conscious than that. So, my brother can just start going on about this guy he works with that wears a dress and knits in front of my dad, who mind is suddenly on the verge of being blown. I know not to go there. Kind of makes it look like my brother is just more comfortable with himself and that it is only a good thing; but what if his thing was not wearing any pants? Sometimes this connectedness to those parts of the world that aren't in your own armpit (in this case, the boundaries such people), is what helps us thrive in this world. Is this sort of wide-eyed naivte one of the reasons my brother has also had so many crazy setbacks in his life?
Who knows? But I'm glad to know him; glad he is my brother; and glad I am not him.
In other news, got a (brief) opportunity to toss the lighted rock around with Cory, who unfortunately had to attend to a twice-vomiting Jonah I did get to see the poor little guy, which was nice. Starting to lengthen out a bit (or so it appeared), and looking almost like Cory L in his early brown-pants days. Sounds like the beer-in-Waterloo ban has been lifted, which in turn lifts my spirit. I look forward to having a beer with Cory in the Cedarloo area next time I am in town and toasting all that is true and good in the world.
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4 comments:
Glad to hear that Cory is finding some freedoms.
Such an interesting phenomenon (your family). I can certainly see some parallels in my own family - I get along best with the other three of the youngest and feel most distant from the two oldest, but I don't think I have had anything like the family experience that you have.
The differences between you and your other siblings and the lack of contact between you and them is fairly wild, particularly given the fact that you personally made some effort at visiting your relatives in KS, probably having more contact with them than either of your two older siblings. And it doesn't seem like they made any effort to visit you. The mysterious Lori (sp?) who lived as close as Cedar Rapids seems to be even more remote in the scheme of things. At least Lindy had a mystique, and Sean of course was KICK ASS, but Lori? Very strange.
Glad that you had a good opportunity to spend some time with him. Sharon inevitably will suffer theough such encounters because it's not in her nature to be demonstrative, unlikely to force herself into conversations. You on the other hand have no such qualms.
My sister's name is actually Laurie.
It's a spooky sort of relationship. I see her and her family at holidays, when we go down to my parents. But she's never visited me in Minneapolis. Sometimes that makes me a little mad, but then I think "Honestly, what would we do if she did?" We share nothing. It's crazy, really, but if you asked me to describe her in terms of her personality or any unique character traits, I couldn't do it.
Maybe we could walk dowtown to have a couple of brews? Possiable that we could sit in lawn chairs and watch traffic go by with our beer in our hands?
What you describe, sir, is the difference between two good friends sharing some beers and reminiscing, and David Asche's lifestyle!
Let's stick to the beers in the pub!
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