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My brother Vincent
Nov. 22nd, 2008 12:13 amIts officially my birthday. Not necessarily my birth time but definitely the birthday. My mother said I was born at a reasonable hour unlike my brother Vincent. For those that are not aware, my older brother Vincent shares the same birthday with me although his occurred 4 years earlier. He was born in the wee early hours of the morning.
As the story goes, my father had a dead battery and had to go borrow one (or was it the entire car) to take my mother to the hospital so that Vincent could enter the world. One could draw some parallels in his life about always wanting to make his appearance in a grandiose fashion and hogging all the attention but I suspect that is just my sibling rivalry gene screaming.
In any event, Vincent arrive to much fanfare and happiness. And four years later he was less than a bit thrilled about my arrival. He first met me when I was lying in my mother's arms swaddled in clothing and looking like most babies do when they have just had their entire body squeezed through an opening the size of a softball. My mother said "Here is your new baby brother." Vincent gave me the once over and exclaimed "Ain't he pretty! He's got a head like my cement mixer!".
I'll be polite and pause for laughter here while you compose yourselves.
Now to understand the significance of that statement, you have to understand a few things. The first is that Vincent had asked for a new dump truck for his birthday present. Additionally, Vincent's favorite toy in the world at that time was his toy truck which happened to be a cement mixer. So by making such a
strange but straightforward comment he had had both exclaimed to the world his dismay in not getting a new truck and also notifying the world that he now considered me a suitable replacement for his new dump truck.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Let me tell you folks, there is nothing more tenacious, vicious, heartless, creative, protective and ingenious than an older brother with a divine right to Run Your Life. There also ain't enough therapy in the world to either mitigate the amazing amount of brainwashing that can be accomplished in the first 60 months of a child's life. Anyone that has met my brother Vincent can easily spot the similarities between him and I. I wish I could say that I regret those similarities but in fact I don't. He is responsible for a lot of
the way I look at the world:
He is the reason that I believe that anyone can accomplish just about anything.
He is the reason I read and collect comic books.
He is the reason I like such an eclectic set of music. He assualted my ears with everything from from Ozzy Ozbourne to Parliament Funkadelic to Andreas Vollenwider. ( I don't think he'll take credit for the country music though.)
He is the reason I chose to hone my writing skills.
He is the reason I went to Georgia Tech.
He is the reason I am a Computer Sceince major instead of a Computer
Engineering major. I still need to thank him a few million more times for that.
And he is the one that taught me how to pick my back-to-the-wall friends. Hell, he was even gracious enough to BE one of those friends.
He is an amazing person. He has overcome adversity that would leave most of us permanently in the fetal position or homicidal. Maybe both given time. And throughout all of this, he has been that same tenacious, vicious, heartless, creative, loving, protective and ingenious older brother.
I wouldn't have it another way. :-)
happy birthday Vincent Martin. you truly are Mister Terrific!
As the story goes, my father had a dead battery and had to go borrow one (or was it the entire car) to take my mother to the hospital so that Vincent could enter the world. One could draw some parallels in his life about always wanting to make his appearance in a grandiose fashion and hogging all the attention but I suspect that is just my sibling rivalry gene screaming.
In any event, Vincent arrive to much fanfare and happiness. And four years later he was less than a bit thrilled about my arrival. He first met me when I was lying in my mother's arms swaddled in clothing and looking like most babies do when they have just had their entire body squeezed through an opening the size of a softball. My mother said "Here is your new baby brother." Vincent gave me the once over and exclaimed "Ain't he pretty! He's got a head like my cement mixer!".
I'll be polite and pause for laughter here while you compose yourselves.
Now to understand the significance of that statement, you have to understand a few things. The first is that Vincent had asked for a new dump truck for his birthday present. Additionally, Vincent's favorite toy in the world at that time was his toy truck which happened to be a cement mixer. So by making such a
strange but straightforward comment he had had both exclaimed to the world his dismay in not getting a new truck and also notifying the world that he now considered me a suitable replacement for his new dump truck.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Let me tell you folks, there is nothing more tenacious, vicious, heartless, creative, protective and ingenious than an older brother with a divine right to Run Your Life. There also ain't enough therapy in the world to either mitigate the amazing amount of brainwashing that can be accomplished in the first 60 months of a child's life. Anyone that has met my brother Vincent can easily spot the similarities between him and I. I wish I could say that I regret those similarities but in fact I don't. He is responsible for a lot of
the way I look at the world:
He is the reason that I believe that anyone can accomplish just about anything.
He is the reason I read and collect comic books.
He is the reason I like such an eclectic set of music. He assualted my ears with everything from from Ozzy Ozbourne to Parliament Funkadelic to Andreas Vollenwider. ( I don't think he'll take credit for the country music though.)
He is the reason I chose to hone my writing skills.
He is the reason I went to Georgia Tech.
He is the reason I am a Computer Sceince major instead of a Computer
Engineering major. I still need to thank him a few million more times for that.
And he is the one that taught me how to pick my back-to-the-wall friends. Hell, he was even gracious enough to BE one of those friends.
He is an amazing person. He has overcome adversity that would leave most of us permanently in the fetal position or homicidal. Maybe both given time. And throughout all of this, he has been that same tenacious, vicious, heartless, creative, loving, protective and ingenious older brother.
I wouldn't have it another way. :-)
happy birthday Vincent Martin. you truly are Mister Terrific!
