DTY XL

My brother David turns 40 today.
Some stuff.

- When I was at UMass/Amherst, I had blown off an assignment for the class History of Jazz up to the day before it was due: a 10-page biography of a jazz artist. I recalled a paper David had written on John Coltrane a few years earlier so I called him, not sure what I'd be asking for. In the end, as I went to classes, he dictated his paper over the phone, into my microcassette recorder, which I rested next to the phone receiver in my dorm room. When I got back, I transcribed the recording and the next day handed it in.

- When we shared a bedroom, one Sunday David shifted his bed by 90 degrees as a redecorating move. Immediately he regretted it, but before returning it to its rightful place, he had me man his video camera to tape a short film about a man waking up in the bed and discovering it was moved. The man's reaction was an apocalyptic stew of rage, despair and depression, ending in weeping. Fade to black.

- When I was living with a couple of folks in the late '90s I was broke. I was making $8 an hour at a photo lab. Fresh home from work one night, I was going through the mail when my roommate called to me from the next room, wondering if I had her money for the electric bill that she had paid in full. As she was asking her question, I was opening an envelope from David. Inside was a blank piece of paper, and taped to that was a $20 bill folded up into a tight square. I removed the money, unfurled it on my way to the living room, and handed it to her, saying pay me back the difference when you can. David didn't owe me any money and it wasn't anywhere near any holiday.

- At my parents' house one weekday we were sitting around, watching TV, when one of us noticed that mailman had a companion with him as he approached the house. We took cover and peered out the front. The second man had a pen & clipboard and was dressed in civvies. As they continued on their way, we scampered from the front window to the top of the stairs, where we had a clear view of their progress to each house around the cul-de-sac. The clipboard man was making notes and watching, making notes and watching, and walking a good body's length behind the mailman. "Poor guy's just trying to do his job!" "Look at that asshole!" "Can you imagine that?" Our comments were half-serious, half-ridiculous. Maybe the mailman deserved this imposition on his route. We didn't know. Either way, as they were directly across the street, I suddenly threw open the window and screamed "Whyn'choo stop sweatin' him, man?!" then slammed it shut. We collapsed on the floor in fits of breathless, shuddering, red-faced laughter.

- When we were roommates in Quincy, we were watching a news report about a house fire that had been deliberately started by the owners' young son. "Imagine that?" David said. "You have kid and they end up going an' burning down your fuckin' house."

- One night when we lived at my parents', the movie theater David managed was closed due to heavy snowfall. Since we lived about a two-minute drive away, and were otherwise housebound, he asked if I wanted to go open up the Cameo and watch A Few Good Men with him. Which we did. A Few Good Men is not a very good movie, but I can vouch a hundredfold for its entertainment value if you can secure a private viewing in an old movie theater in the middle of a blizzard.

Happy 40th to David and may there be 400,000 more!