Momma Bear tells me today is your birthday - so Happy Birthday Tango 999 and belated Birthday greetings to T-Flow (may she continue her streak for many more years). In honor of your special day, I am posting some memmorable pictures from your past. The upper right one shows K-Daves apprehension at your arrival home. The lower left is your 1st demonstration of your construction skills. I hope these photos aren't using too much web memmory.
4 comments:
In that construction shot? Would ya take a look at those scuffed white buster browns on the birthday boy?! I don't think those could have survived a-passin'-on to brother Andrew. And how about that right arm on the confirmation photo? It's a good couple-a inches longer than the left! Looks like a gangly early teen. But those eyes sure are mischievous already!
Happy Birthday Baby!
And see that sweater Momma Bear's wearing? I have it now! It has a small moth hole in it, but other than that, it's in great shape! I do believe there is a story that goes with it, too - something about a frantic young husband searching for just the right gift as the stores are closing on Christmas Eve...
And help me with my fuzzy memory, here - those doors behind the young guitar hero, are they on the room we called the sunroom at the house on Lakeview?
The happiest of birthdays to you, big brother!
Oh Brother there art thou! The happy parents picture: can't believe how young you both look... Daddio looks like a teenager, but one who is incredibly happy. Your eyes positively sparkle! Momma B, you look amazing! Especially considering you just gave birth and plainly came home from the hospital to very surly first born boy child. He is plainly none to pleased at having to share you with that tiny interloper in your lap. Awesome picture to be sure. [Side note: the tie clip Poppa B has on just might be in my basement, stuck to the peg board that holds some of my tools. It was in your basement, in roughly the same position it is now, when I was home last summer and, well, it might have accidently fallen into my pocket. I hope you don't mind (much). I remember seeing it on you so many times as a kid, and it seemed lonely somehow down there... anyway, you can have it back (of course) in a heartbeart. On the otherhand, my siblings will have to sue me for it. Possession being nine tenths and all...]
Tango playing guitar? Who knew??!!
The construction picture - uhh, K-Dave is looking a might, ugh, "Husky". Best part is the juxtaposition of Daddio behind him though, looking exactly like he would some 25-odd years later. The resemblance is uncanny! And Tango, whatcha putting on top, a marshmellow? Nice touch.
As for the carnation/tie picture - good observation T-flo - the arm length thing is a tad scary. Lurch? But the first thing I noticed was the unequally opened eyes. Right eye way (ok, a little) more open than the left. Just like I do all the time. Same eye too. My ties generally match my carnations a lot better though, so at least we're different in that respect.
Happy birthday big bro! Thanks. Thanks for, for everything. Loveyoumeanit.
And thanks P (& M) Bear - very cool!
Well yes I did have a Happy Birthday, thank you very much. Due in no small part to this wonderful array of Kodachromes. Don't remember the first one, but the look on Kubota's explains a couple of the scars on my face. And my single blue tattoo.
The lost "Beatle" [in front of the "sunroom" doors] was taken just before the talent show at St John Berchman's. I had no bellbottoms in 1970, so Momma B split the outside bottom seams of some regulation trousers and filled them with the same fabric she used to make my neckerchief.
The construction photo, alas, merely chronicles my nascent enthusiasm for architectural criticism, as that is no marshmallow in my hand, I'm merely pointing, with a marshmallowy meathook, at the final block that Kubota put onto that pile. Right before Poppa launched a aerial attack {if there were any blocks left}. And right after I was warned that touching the blocks would knock them down and knocking them down would result in permanent disfigurement.
Which is plainly visible in the last photo, taken at my confirmation. When I was thirteen. Not eight, as it appears. Obviously my right arm is out of joint. And my whole face is sliding down to the left. Ear, eye: did I have a stroke? And is that an orthopedic belt on that vest. Or is that just the normal belt that any ordinary vest has? Hard to say in that light. But judging from that smug smirk, somebody owes me at least one more ass-whooping.
So thankyou thank you for the slide show highlights of last forty seven odd years.
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