So, I may or may not continue this, but I was thinking that I'd introduce you to my Big Brother. For the sake of consistency I'll simply call him R.
R is 2 1/2 years older than me. He's the oldest child of our parents. Our relationship is... complex. I can say in the same breath that I love him with all my heart and that I loath him to my core. I rarely feel either emotion that intensely, but I DO feel both at almost all times. Lemme start by giving a quick history of R.
As a child (before high school), R was the defender and commander of my younger brother and I. It's more or less like that old adage... no one picks on my family but me. Up until I got into college I always looked up to him. But as I try to wipe off the glossy nostalgia from my childhood memories, R was always more stand offish with family. Less emotionally... there.
When he was tasked with watching over my younger brother and I, he always wore his "I'm in command" hat. One incredibly visceral memory was of us warming up supper one night. I don't know why, but I told him flat out that I wouldn't be eating any of his cubed and fried potatoes. He told me in no uncertain terms that I'd either eat them or he'd stuff them up my nose. I didn't eat them. After much chasing, I ended up with soft warm cubed potatoes up both nostrils.
Now I don't want to paint him as a bully, but he took his responsibility very seriously. I'm sure in his mind he was just enforcing Mom and Dad's rule of eating the food placed in front of us.
The things that my brother's and I did for fun was almost always influenced heavily by R. We played a very imaginitve game with all of our toys combined and R (at least for the first few years) served as the story teller and narrator of our game. That type of play morphed into Dungeons and Dragons, which R learned about from some other friends. When we'd play team games or sports (football, kick ball, war...) R was always the arbitrator/referee. When we'd ride bikes he'd always dictate where we'd go. When our family got a computer, it was one that R was using in school (A Commie 64).
In high school R seemed to branch out some more. Our D&D group started including his friends (never my younger brother's or my friends). He started hanging out with his friends more and more, while hanging out with the family less and less. I think that's about the same time that I became more independent too.... not because I have that streak within me, but because R was no longer there.
You know those people that still believe that their best years were in high school? R is one of those people. It's not that his high school years were all that great... he's just never really established a life AFTER high school. He was never 'the popular' kid in high school, but he had his clique of friends. R was the guy in charge of his clique. He had the best car, he had the best stereo, the best hair, the best ideas, and the best girl.
Immediately after high school R followed my dad's footsteps and signed up for the Navy. Unfortunately just before going to basic training, he broke his wrist. He probably could have held off, or even stepped out and come back when his wrist was fully healed. But the few weeks in basic training were enough to let R know that the Navy or other military service was never going to be for him. I've heard it said that the military's idea in basic training is to break down the rookies and rebuild them in the way the military wants them. Well R just wasn't the type of guy that gets broken down. He was allowed to leave honorably, but as he wasn't in basic long enough it wasn't any type of 'retirement' or 'disability'. He just left with no positive or negative mark on his record.
Back home he more or less picked up where he left off.... he worked at that fast foot place, hung out with his friends, hung out with his girl... and spun his tires.
At some point (I'm not really sure when), he picked up using a Windows based computer. Before that time we had all used Commodores and Amiga computers). He took to computing like a fish takes to water. Eventually he got a job running a small internet service provider (back in the days where you had to dial up). I even worked for him for a short while but the business rolled up it's carpet and turned off the servers one day with no notice. Not only did all the customers get screwed... R was out of a job.
He followed my cousin down to Texas and eventually got a job at a very large internet service provider. But while family was never his main focus while living up in the same town, it grew exponentially in importance when he was over 1,000 miles away. I don't recall the exact steps, but he eventually came out on the bad end of many problems. He totaled his brand new Grand Prix (without insurance), got into marijuana, got into drinking, and eventually lost his job. He had a few short term low paying jobs, but nothing that could keep up with his food/rent/bills. My cousin was there to help, but my cousin is the type of guy that never lets you forget that he's helping you out. And again, that just doesn't go with R.
So he put his hands up, gave up, and moved back home.
He went through a lot of jobs. Shop jobs, lawn service jobs, road construction jobs.... but none that he lasted at (more on that in a bit). At times he lived with friends, and at other times he lived with Mom and Dad. Fast forward through several glum years and I hired him at the photo and video company.
One thing that really defines R is his work ethic. He has a core value that you work as damned well as you can at all times. 'Down Time' doesn't exist for R. I don't believe he's ever had a job where he wasn't one of the most efficient hard working people there. But the flip side of that coin is that R believes that hard work should earn you 'more'. More accommodations to days off. More money. More benefits. He will constantly grouse about people not pulling their own weight (i.e. not working as hard as he does). He has no care about seniority or longevity in a job.
When I hired him it was with a genuine fear that he'd burn out in this job as well. First of all I couldn't bring him on as a photographer. He just has no experience with a camera. Thankfully only a quarter of the job is actually taking photographs. The rest was setting up our sales booth (a lot of computers and networking) and selling the photographs.
R is... well he's grumpy. Smiling is never a default position. So I never would have imagined that he'd end up as our best salesman. I swear! I'd watch him do it and still couldn't understand it. For the most part our clientele were very well off professionals (let's face it, it takes a lot of money to support your children's gymnastics or figure skating career), and in my experience they needed a lot of smiles and buttering up to part with their cash. R? He'd just grumpily tell them about our products. When they'd hesitate or give it more than a moment's thought, he'd interrupt and bully them into a sale. And when they wanted to buy one of something, he'd make sure they bought two. If they were buying twenty of something he'd make sure they'd walk away with twenty five.
With me as his direct supervisor, and two genuinely nice guys as the owners, R got the closest he ever did to a perfect job. His hard work was rewarded and he was used as an example to other workers of how to perform. Even those that had been working with the company for years.
When Dad was diagnosed with Cancer, we both left the job. He moved in with a friend back home while I moved in to Mom and Dad's place. R fell back into the same old routine of getting decent enough jobs but never lasting all that long. He probably could have gotten better jobs, but he refused to compromise on his beliefs. The one belief that held him back for the longest time is that marijuana should be a legal drug. If job said they drug tested, then R wouldn't even apply. Not only did he know he'd fail a drug test, he refused to either cheat or quit long enough to get the job. He felt they were morally wrong to have such a rule.
Before I move on, I should talk a bit about R's drug use. He uses marijuana every day. It's the loudest secret in the house. Neither Dad nor Mom supported it, but both knew (and mom still knows) that he did it in their home. R isn't stupid about using though. He only uses when he has no direct responsibilities. Going to work 'high' is as repulsive to R as having and employer drug test him. His normal routine is to head down to our neighbors house after dinner and light up there. Later he'll come home and light up again just before going to sleep. I've seen him in almost every stage of 'high'. From high as a kite, to barely buzzing. And I can say with certainty that R is never high when he shouldn't be. If there was EVER a reason to say that marijuana should be legal, then R would be it's poster child.
That more or less brings us up to current. Before graduating from nursing school I had followed my younger brother to a job at a retail store. A year or so later, R got a job at the same place. This place is a horror show of inefficiency. It's corporate management run amok. My whole thought was that I didn't give a shit. I never intended it to be a long term job. So I simply kept my head down and did the work. R on the other hand wanted every job to be his last job. But between the four different managers, R never got any respect. The fact that he was by FAR the best worker there never surpassed that he was one of the grumpiest people there. He was passed over again and again for promotions and up until this summer was still making less than $8 an hour. No benefits.
Years takes it's toll and R finally quit. It's one of the fist time he ever quit a job without having another one lined up. That wasn't for lack of trying. R had been looking for another job for over 18 months. But enough was enough and everyone that knows R was glad he quit. Oddly enough, the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Not three weeks passed before R interviewed for his current job. He was hired as a custodian for low income housing. The job didn't pay much, but it was for the city. His benefits include paid holidays. Earned vacation time. Sick days. Health insurance. A pension (a mother-fucking PENSION!).
Within a couple weeks of working there he was promoted to a maintenance assistant. It came with a raise and a whole heap of praise from his boss. There's even talk now that before the end of the year he'll be moving up to maintenance tech. Another promotion, raise, and lots more praise.
R will never get rich at this job. I think the pay scale ends at about $15 an hour (he's currently just over $10 an hour). He's making just above $20,000 a year and will probably top out at just under $30,000 a year. It's nothing to sneeze at, especially considering the benefits and the fact that (so far at least) they adore his work ethic. But the marijuana is still a problem. R actually broke down and bought some 'fake pee' to pass the test. They DO random test too.
So that's R's history. It's not a happy one, and R isn't a happy person. He only ever really had one serious relationship and that was back just after returning home from the Navy. We've never had a deep conversation about it, but R wears his thoughts on his sleeve and I don't think he ever wants to get married or have children.
If I ever want an honest opinion on something, my search starts and ends with R. He won't sugar coat his opinions. Even if his opinions will knowingly insult someone. For example he thinks my current thick rimmed black glasses are 'stupid' looking and makes me look like some hippy hippster. His words. He thinks I'm stuipd for getting a pair that closely resembles them for my new set of specs. He hates most of my music choices. He thinks almost all classical music is for 'fags' and that I'm suspect gay for enjoying it. He thinks Fiona is about the silliest car that someone would ever consider buying. He has never beat around the bush when asked for his opinion. I asked... I was told.
Another part of R though is his deep respect for individual choices. Yes, he dislikes just about everything that I love... but he knows it's my choice and doesn't try to change my mind. For the most part that works in our relationship. I know I'm not going to convince him to change his ways, and he doesn't even try to convince me to change my ways. We can debate about things, but almost all the time it ends up with a "We'll have to agree to disagree".
The one touchy area for the two of us is guns. Or more appropriately gun control. He believes that gun ownership and use is a firm and unyielding right and that any regulation of firearms is bad. He believes that banning fully automatic weapons is bad. He believes that requiring a background check before purchasing any gun is bad. Now, you know that I like my guns. But if congress could pass a method of controlling gun ownership... somehow making it incredibly difficult to get guns... I'd be right there in full support. I believe that they SHOULD take guns away from people that can't prove their responsibility. I believe it should be almost impossible to get a gun and the crimes for using a gun should be heinous.
And with as often as guns are in the news, it comes up in conversation a lot. More often than not, our conversations end up with both of us pissed off at each other.
R is just that way. He believes what he believes and if you don't believe in it too, then he doesn't have much room in his life for you. If we weren't blood, I don't think we'd be friends. He can be very crude at times. He uses the word 'Nigger' far to much for my liking. He will always complain that the word Nigger actually means an unintelligent person and that he's not being a racist... but he only uses that term against black people. If anybody stood up and called R racist, I'd be right there to defend him... but he makes it hard. He's NOT racist (at least not any more than I myself am)... but he is against inner city culture and doesn't believe that there are any 'Black Problems'. Affirmative action? Black teens getting shot by the police? Getting sent to prison more often and for longer terms when compared to the same crimes for while people? He doesn't think these are problems. At least not problems that he nor anybody else should be concerned with.
R doesn't have a lot of friends, and unsurprisingly in our town, he doesn't have any african american friends. He does have a homosexual friend though. And R's thoughts on sexual identity is about the same as his thoughts about race. He doesn't believe that homosexuality is a choice and therefore isn't something to diminish another person. His basic philosophy is "Hey, I'm not a fag, but if that works for you, then go for it!". And yes.. he's used the term 'fag' to his friend... but only after he heard his friend use the same word.
It's hard to get to know R. It's even harder to learn to like him. I doubt that he'll ever have a large group of friends. I also doubt that he wants a large group of friends. He would never say that he's picked his friends... they were simply people who came into contact with R and that met his requirements for being a friend. Honesty and hard work. R has those and needs those he's friend with to have them too.
I hate R. I love R. I respect R. I can't stand for what he believes in.
He's my brother. My Big Brother
Oh... and for the record, he'd get a real kick about me referring to him as my 'Big Brother'. I'm about two inches taller and about 50 pounds heavier than him. Ever since High School the running joke has been that R is the older brother and that I'm the big brother. If anybody else would make that joke he'd tell them to fuck off.
But I'm his Little Brother.
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