Legends

Today marks a special day.  The birthdays of some big personalities:  Ronald Reagan, Bob Marley, and my own brother, affectionately known as U.J.  (That's short for Uncle John.)  We all know the stories and folklore, the posthumous adoration for the Gipper and the man who made Reggae famous.  But what about the other legend?  U.J!

He's got Reagan's way with words and easy charisma, and Marley's melody and surfer cool good looks.  But his quicksilver mind, lightening wit, and rollicking humor are 100% his own.  My college roommate always referred to him as Einstein.  

U.J. was a year and three days old when I came on the scene.  He memorialized our first meeting by feeding me chocolate chips.  (This happened in the days when adults had no problem leaving a one year old and newborn alone unsupervised - just the first in a long line of grown-up-free disasters to come.)  Certainly my sugar addiction harks back to that first taste.

But nevermind. 

U.J. went on to lead the charge on many an adventure.  Early schemes included asking neighbors to contribute money for the dead sister's funeral.  (Guess who, lying prone in the red wagon, couldn't keep her eyes shut and gave away the whole scam?)  As a slightly older little kid, he dug an ambitious tunnel in the backyard, making it nearly to China before the undercover project was discovered by Angry Dad.  He came up with splendid ideas like flooding the back lawn to make a huge wet "slip and slide" for all the neighborhood kids to enjoy.  Later adventures included sneaking through private artichoke fields in Santa Cruz to get to the best surfing beach, and serving as editor in chief of his high school's underground protest newspaper.  True to his early devotion, he always brought me chocolates when he returned home from his first job at Morrow's Nut House.  U.J. headed up our first all-kid roadtrip when he was 17 and we drove nearly the length of California in his rattletrap VW Beetle.  No matter how farflung my travels in college and beyond, U.J. came to visit, charming the locals.  He has always been the chief architect of adventure, and I, a happy first deputy.

By now we can officially call him a grown-up, but U.J. retains the same mess-up-your-hair sense of fun.  He is loyal, loving, smart, and highly entertaining.  Happy Birthday U.J.  I hope the cake has plenty of chocolate.