One man in a thousand, Solomon says, will stick more close than a brother. – Rudyard Kipling
Tomorrow’s my brother’s birthday. He’s, let’s see, 47. We’ve never been very close, though we’ve sort of acknowledged this over the past ten years and made an occasional attempt to do something about this. We clashed a bit about my dad’s doctor as he was dying last November, the first time that I remember us arguing about anything since we were kids. I wonder if he wants to get closer. I made a bit of a stab at involving him with Real Joe a while back since he’s got some real talent as a writer. But he never pursued it, never checks his email, and has never said anything about the pieces I’ve written after I gave him printouts. I guess I’ll bring this up to him next week when he and my sister and I all meet for dinner. Maybe I just need to go out of my way a little more.