spent the past week hanging out with my brother, who was here to go to our grandpa's funeral in north dakota. i dropped him off at the airport at 4:50 AM and i've been all out of sorts ever since, like i've had an appendage removed. this is my brother who is two and a half years younger than me; we were best friends growing up, with all of the fun and the fights that that entailed. we haven't lived in the same town in about seven years, but he is talking seriously about moving back here, and the prospect of that sounds so awesome that i'm trying not to get my hopes up for fear of devastation if he decides not to.
for one thing, he loves the twins as much as i do. when he got back to new orleans today, we talked on the phone about how morneau is getting totally jacked in the media coverage of the homerun derby...he won the shit, and all they talk about is that crackhead texas guy. (my brother was even madder about it than i was, which delights me, because he is as loyal to the twins now as he was when he was a ten-year-old kirby puckett worshipper.) so...i'm daring to dream of having a fun companion to attend games with me, instead of going by myself all the damn time. i'm fine company, i suppose, but i prefer the company of my brother, who, when we went to a game last weekend, muttered things like, "jesus, delmon. that's some little league shit right there," when delmon fumbled yet another play in left field.
he also shares my appreciation for things like bike rides, garlic french fries, all-you-can-eat pie at baker's square, happy hours with $2 beer, and hanging out on the curb drinking soda. he's one ton of fun, basically. and i miss him and want him to get the hell back here so i feel like this place is home again.
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