I was talking to my little brother earlier. He was telling me of a few things he’d still like to do and / or experience before heading off to college. One of the adventures on his list was going charter fishing on a deep sea boat. I told him he should get his friends together and make it happen. He then surprises me by saying “It just scares me a little since I can’t swim”. My first reaction was to blurt out “What do you mean you can’t swim?”, but it only took my brain a few seconds to process the thought.

Oh that’s right, he really can’t swim.

I guess it is something I’ve just never thought about, but I honestly don’t think he’s ever been in a real pool. We left Arizona when he was about 7 or so, and back then he had no interest in swimming. Aside from those 12 inch high kiddie pools that you can pop in a backyard. And of course once we moved to Alaska, there just aren’t any pools here. I haven’t seen a backyard pool in over 10 years. Pools just aren’t typical for a place that is frozen most of the year.

I don’t even think we have a single public pool in Anchorage. I know we have a water-park, but that isn’t the same. Swimming was a huge part of my childhood. So much a part of my life, that I just assume all kids grow up that way. Me and my friends used to ride our bikes for miles at a time to reach a public pool, then swim all day long till the pool finally closed. That was just standard procedure for any sunny day.

I don’t think my brother has even seen a pool, other than the indoor one at his old high school. It’s hard for me to imagine a healthy, fit 18 year old who can’t swim. Just seems so odd. I guess the fact that we are brothers just sort of blinded my thinking. We have an 11 year age difference, so my life experiences aren’t the same as his. I grew up with Florida beaches and Arizona pools. He grew up sledding and snowboarding. Two completely different lifestyles.

I guess if he wants to go out on a boat, he better invest in a good life jacket.

You know, I don’t have a perfect life. Things haven’t worked out quite the way I had planned in my mind. I find myself in a situation that isn’t quite ideal, and things aren’t at their brightest. Yet for all of that, I can’t help but believe that I’ve had a pretty blessed life. Having been born and raised here in the States, I think I just take some things for granted.

All the really terrible things are always “over there”. Across an ocean. In a different country. All the horrible stuff, I watch on the news. Images of people dead in the streets. Dozens, hundreds. Images of buildings riddled with bullets. Images of people picking weeds to make “soup”, because they have no real food. Car bombs, assassinations, a group of people blown up at a voting booth. People afraid of “vanishing” if they say the wrong thing, or wear the wrong clothes, or witness the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Yeah, I can say I’ve lived a blessed life.

I can’t comprehend the reality that some people have to live in. I can’t imagine being afraid to go to the corner store, because someone in line might be a suicide bomber. Or being afraid to drive near other cars, because the car next to me might be a car bomb. I can’t imagine my mom being killed for walking down the street without my father next to her. I can’t imagine dying, simply because I have no food. I don’t know what it’s like, to live in constant fear.

I just don’t even know how to honestly relate to the suffering some people live through every single day. It just isn’t part of my world, my little bubble of existence.

When I was a kid, I worried about things like homework. I didn’t worry about having a grenade thrown at me on the way to school. Or having my school blown apart by a rocket. I wondered what might be on the lunch menu. I didn’t wonder what garbage can might have a scrap of food so that I would have the energy to live another day. I lift a handle and I have water. I flip a switch and I have light. I open a door and I have food. I open my wallet and I have some money. I have a roof over my head, and nobody in my family has ever been killed.

Some people would read those last 5 sentences and say “that sounds like a miracle, you must live in heaven”, and how sad a thought is that?

So yeah, I have a blessed life. My family is blessed, my friends are blessed. We might lack for some things, but we are all so, so much better off than others. I’ll try to always keep that in mind before I complain about some silly little thing that means nothing.

So I found out yesterday that I owe my former employer some money. Five hundred and eighty-three dollars. And ten cents, to be exact. I was given 14 days to repay it — and the letter was mailed a week ago, so I only have 7 days now — or it will be turned over to a collection agency. This is apparently money that I was overpaid in the few weeks following the time I was laid off, as part of my COLA pay (Cost Of Living). I can’t help but feel this is just one additional slap in the face from a company that I literally put my blood and sweat into:

Thanks for all your hard work, kiss your job goodbye and that extra money we deposited into your bank account, yeah, we want that back or else we’ll hold you criminally responsible. Have a nice day!

Nothing like being threatened for a mistake that wasn’t even mine in the first place. The sad thing is, I already gave that money to my mom for a dental procedure she is about to have, so it isn’t like I can just go ask for it back. Granted, it wasn’t my money in the first place, but I didn’t know that. It wasn’t as if I was tapping my fingers together and whispering “Excellent!” as I plotted how to spend my ill-gotten pay. It was deposited directly into my savings account, not something I check up on daily. If it had been my checking account it would have been a different story, I would have noticed that right away and knew something wasn’t quite right.

Now I have to come up with 600 bucks that I don’t necessarily have. Funny the difference just a few days can make. Just the other day my mom was asking for 500 bucks and I said, sure, no problem. Now I wish I could go back and say, yanno, give me a couple days just to make sure of something.

Oh well, as the saying goes, “If I only knew then what I know now”. I’m sure things will work out. They always do, somehow or another.

My brother showed up here at home during his school day yesterday, and our conversation went a bit like this:

Me:  Hey, what are you doing home so early?
Him:  The snow on the roads is so bad! I left school to go get lunch, and I almost got into so many wrecks. Cars were sliding down the hill towards me. It took me an hour and a half just to get here!
Me:  Jeez… so, you’re ditching class?
Him:  No, not really.
Me:  How so?
Him:  Well it took me an hour and a half just to get here, so there is no way I can get back in time. I’d miss class on the way there anyway. So… I’m not really ditching.

The kid should go into politics, I swear.

Me:  Oh, well I guess this works out then, now that you’re home you can help me shovel the driveway.
Him:  Uhh (sigh) Okay…

So this Christmas my Uncle had somehow got the mistaken impression that everyone was simply giving out money and gift cards. I think it might have had something to do with my brother asking just for money. Whatever the case, his thought was wrong, we were indeed giving out gifts this year.

I think he found out at the last moment — like on his way to my house — and panicked. I assume this only due to the fact that his presents to me were a pair of scissors and a pack of mini bungee-cords.

And that just makes me love my crazy family even more.

Me and my brother packed up my camera and tripod, and a backpack full of different outfits and took a walk into the woods up near Campbell Airstrip to try and take a couple decent shots for his yearbook photo.  After hearing about one of his classmates paying 1,400$ for her senior pictures (no, that isn’t a typo) I told my brother, “Man, I bet I could take your picture myself”.

So that is exactly what we did.

I used to not put any easily distinguishable photos of my brother online, due to him being underage and just safety concerns, but the kid is 18 now (if you can believe that) and so I don’t mind posting a few photos of him now and again.  I think this turned out pretty well, though the yearbook coordinators did say to him “why didn’t you smile?”  He repilied, “I AM smiling…”  Yup, I can so tell he is my brother.  We are exactly the same in many, many ways.

Good looking kid isn’t he?  And if there are any rich women out there looking for a young, eligible bachelor, he is  smart as a whip as well!  Just sayin’.

Wednesday night my Grandfather died.  I didn’t know him well, we had only met 3 times my entire life, but his passing still hits hard in the fact that he was my last living grand parent.  The circumstances of his passing, and the decision and/or timing of the decision to take him off life support is another thing that hit my family hard.  I won’t second guess my fathers side of the family, I’m sure they had their reasons for doing what they did – but the fact that my dad was due to fly out and spend the last moments with my grandpa on Friday, and having the family decide to stop life support before he could arrive… yeah, that doesn’t sit well with me.

Not at all.

Two days, and my dad could have been there to hold his hand.  He could have been there to say his goodbyes, and give him his love.  He could have just been there, instead of being in Alaska at 3 a.m. and hearing about it over the phone.  He should have been there.  Instead his one chance at that is gone forever, and I know that will haunt him for the rest of his life.  I feel so bad for my dad, I just hope that he can get over this eventually.

Well it has happened.

Cop:  “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
My Brother:  “No…”
Cop:  “Do you know how fast you were going?”
My Brother:  “Uhh, about 65?”
Cop:  “Well, yeah, that is exactly right.  The problem is this road is posted at 55.”

So yup, my little brother has his first speeding ticket.  That took a whole… what, two, three months?  I can’t remember, but I guess he felt it was about due.  Probably wanted to just get it out of the way.  The anticipation must have been killing him!

Honestly I’m surprised it took him this long, his foot being made half of lead.  Just sayin’.

Boy, school sure has changed since the ancient days when I attended.  I remember my high school days in Arizona, and going to classes with such awe-inspiring names as “English 1” and “English 2“, or the classic “Physical Education“.  It seemed every year we went to the same exact boring classes, with just progressively harder class work.  Now days, well, take a glance at my little brothers 11th grade class schedule:

1. Accounting
2. Weight Training
3. Astronomy
4. Yearbook
5. Constitution / Bill Of Rights
6. Teen Issues
7. Advisory

I don’t even have a clue what Advisory might be, and what in the world do they talk about in Teen Issues, the latest quiz being passed around Myspace?  OK, I kid, but seriously — the times are changing for sure!  I was amazed when I moved from Arizona to Alaska, saw the class listing and noticed we were actually offered choices.  Instead of “English 1 and 2″ I was given the option to try out Creative Writing (where you write stories, obviously), or Personal Reading (where you read whatever book you want, and write reports about them).

I almost thought they were lying to me, I couldn’t possibly get credit for such a class, could I?  Well apparently I did, since I graduated, but man I sure would have liked to spend the entire four years here instead of just the one.  And Weight Training?  That is just fantastic.  When they tried to get creative in Arizona, they offered Square Dancing as a credit.  Seriously, square dancing.  They tried to stick me in that class once, when P.E. apparently got full.  I told my counselor that I would drop out before I so much as watched a square dancing class.  I wasn’t serious of course, but he thought I was, and suddenly they found room for me on the Cross Country Running team.  Which was fine by me, I’d rather run miles than square dance.  Just sayin’.

My little brother showing his stuff this past winter, snowskating in the empty parking lot of a former church.  The place is now a “Baptist University” and they do not like skaters. We had to sneak there at night to get these shots.