Johnny Dangerously: I don't need no lawyer to handle my kid brutha.
Reporter: Wait a minute!?!? You... and he...
Johnny: That's right, we's bruthas.
Tommy Kelly: We were brothers.
That was the sort of reaction I had recently from one of my softball teammates. I had been e-mailing him about some team related stuff and explaining where Katie and I had gone on vacation a few weeks ago and that my brother and his wife had been there and he comes back with, "wow, you two are really good friends, aren't you? You go on vacation together and your wives get along. That's pretty cool."
Admittedly, I was scratching my head a bit. I thought everyone knew we were brothers. Sure, we don't exactly look alike. But enough people have told us they see similarities and can easily tell that we are, so I've given up any hope of denying his existence (I keed, I keed).
(Note: the photo is from our Vegas trip last year; you can click through to see the full-size copy on Flickr)
I typed back, "No. I hate the little bastard. He's my brother."
I can imagine he scratched his head to the point of bloodletting after this considering his shocked response.
"You're brothers?!?! Like same-parents brothers? Who's older???" I couldn't help but laugh.
So the next week, we're at our sponsor's bar after the game and I ask a few others on the team if they knew. Thankfully, they all did. But what they said next surprised me...
"Yeah, and he's [pointing at my brother] got you by a few years."
"Um, how old do you think we are?"
[pointing at me] "About 30 and," [pointing at Brian] "about 32 or 33, right?"
"Nope," I said. "He's 29 and I'm 33, but I thank you wholeheartedly!"
That shit seriously blew my mind.
Jocko Dundee: I'm standin' here with my dork in my hand!
Sorry, that has absolutely nothing to do with this post. I just love that line. Oh hell, I love that entire damn movie.
Totally Unrelated Aside (TUA): I was checking out one of the cities where I used to live (Lexington, KY) via Google Map's Street View feature and found my old home. It seriously looks nothing like I remember it or like how I've seen it in photos my parents have. Amazing what 23 years can do to a place, eh? Oh, and that's not my actual address. Right street, wrong number.
Man, if I had the time, I could play with Google Maps for hours on end.