Me and my big brother circa 1967. I'm the good looking one. |
Warren's a good guy, and the best big brother I could ever hope for. He gave me one of his kidneys, one of the reasons I can still eat French fries, hell, he's one of the reasons I am still walking around breathing. Over and above that, I love the guy, hey, he's my brother. And I do talk about him frequently on my other blogs. Regarding my comic book review work, he's the main reason I still love The Flash and Justice League so much, and over at my pop culture blog, Welcome to Hell, I just recently mentioned his "On the Radio" 8-track in my Donna Summer obit more than a few months ago.
One memory of my brother and French fries comes from the time when he had just started driving and had purchased his own car. I was just a stupid punk kid at the time, no future as a foodie blogger in my mind at all. Heck, the concept of a foodie blogger didn't even exist yet. Anyway, with a car comes freedom, and with freedom comes the ability to go wherever you want whenever you want.
Bottom line, Warren could go to McDonald's any time he wanted. And he rarely forgot his little brother when he would bring home a snack. He would always share his fries with me, or more accurately, give them to me when he was done with them. Hey, I never said he was a saint. I still remember that. Like I said, he's a good guy. Maybe when he's living at the old folks home, in a rocking chair, with an afghan on his lap, I'll let him have the rest of my fries.
Just kidding, Warren, they're my fries. Lol.
1 comment:
a very sweet tribute to your brother. loved it
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