My brother Jason turned 30 on Saturday. That's a little weird for me. That makes 30 loom pretty large for me.
This picture was taken this summer when we were hanging out at my Dad's on a chilly night. You could see your breath in July in SC. Strange.
Dad had a bag of sweaters someone had given him. We each put on the ugliest one we could find. That evening is known as the Cosby Sweater Night.
(That does little to explain the pink koozie, but I'm doing what I can here, Jason.)
He's five and a half years older than me, so when I was little, the gap between us was huge. He was twice my size. I had just finished sixth grade when he graduated High School. We were family, but there was a little disconnect on the basis of proximity.
That changed when I was in college. Jason, who had taken some pretty serious time off, came to App and we lived together Junior and Senior year. It was a bit of a role-reversal. For the first time, I was the guy who knew my way around and could show him the ropes. It was pretty cool, actually.
We graduated three hours apart. I walked off the stage at the College of Arts and Sciences graduation, took of my cap and gown and handed it to him, and he used it to walk across the stage at the College of Music graduation.
Then I moved to Chicago and he moved to NYC.
Some of his best buddies are up there visiting for his big 3-0.
Me: Having fun with the boys?
Jason: I threw up on a cab.
We Young boys keep the party going long into adulthood.