Lordy, Lordy.

Happy birthday to my younger brother Scott. (I’ve called him Zarniwhoop here before, but that’s even harder to keep up with than Slartibartfast).  Today is a big one.  Those of you who have known me a long time (especially Ford Prefect), please sit down:

Scott is 40 today.

No.Way.  My baby brother is 40??????

Although he and I are about as close as brothers can be, I don’t talk about Scott very much for two reasons: one, he lives in Florida, and, at best we’ll talk once a week.  So, the chances for good blog material are scant.  Two, it’s nearly impossible to talk about Scott without mentioning his “condition”, which I promised him years ago I’d never do for sympathy or to score political points.

I’ve piqued your interest, so I’ll say it factually, then move on: Scott has a form of Muscular Dystrophy that’s been ravaging his body since his late teens.

But, it is part of who he is, along with being the single best guitarist I have ever known personally.  Scott is truly gifted.

I don’t know if I can properly explain how close Scott and I were when we were younger.  We went through a LOT together.  I have missed him dearly since my impulsive parents moved back to Florida (again), taking him with them.

Anyway, he gave me some good news recently: because there is a stretch of three straight Titans home games in a row this year, Scott will be coming up for a nice extended period this fall.  We may even catch a Predator game or two.

This is how men bond, by the way.  Just like toddlers: parallel play.  And it’s just as valid as two women sitting at a table talking about their feelings.  But that’s another post for another day.

Today is Scott’s Day.  Scott’s BIG day.  Happy Birthday, Scott! 

 

You danged babe magnet…