{"id":109,"date":"2007-08-20T23:28:00","date_gmt":"2007-08-21T07:28:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.cheldodge.net\/blog\/2007\/08\/20\/my-brother-michael\/"},"modified":"2007-08-20T23:28:00","modified_gmt":"2007-08-21T07:28:00","slug":"my-brother-michael","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/userblogs.ganoksin.com\/lavajewelry\/2007\/08\/20\/my-brother-michael\/","title":{"rendered":"My Brother Michael"},"content":{"rendered":"

This is the third in my series of family stories. It’s now my lucky brother Michael’s turn. And boy have I got stories about him!<\/p>\n

Michael is 1 year and 9 months younger than me. When my parents brought this strange creature home from the hospital, I couldn’t pronounce “Michael” so he was “Buckles” to me.<\/p>\n

To say that Buckles and I did not get along growing up would be a gross understatement. We fought all the time, sometimes ending in physical altercations. The most memorable was the “claw hammer incident” in which he chased me around the basement while I was riding my tricycle and hit me on the head with a claw hammer. Thankfully not the claw side!<\/p>\n

Michael was always getting into trouble. I remember once we had a single solitary watermelon growing in the garden, and one day it was gone. Michael’s face was covered in pink juice as he vehemently denied breaking it open on a rock and eating it.<\/p>\n

Despite his rebellious side, he also had his endearing moments. I learned to bake very young (maybe 6 years old?), but I was terrified of the oven. Michael used to put things in the oven for me, and take them out when they were done. Michael had a fear of his own. When our dad used to read How the Grinch Stole Christmas<\/u>, we had to cover Michael’s ears when dad got to the part about how the Grinch had a “terrible, wonderful idea.” That part scared him every time. Michael also had this plan to climb the aluminum fence that went around our yard to get to the moon.<\/p>\n

Michael was a skater in his pre-teen and teenage years. He built a quarter-pipe in our driveway, and a half-pipe in the backyard, where all of the neighborhood boys would hang out.<\/p>\n

\nMichael the skater<\/i><\/p>\n

Michael showed his artistic leanings early on. He was constantly in the process of painting (with spray paint) his bedroom. Every object in his room was covered in colorful paint. Although I wasn’t allowed in his room, I could tell what color he was currently painting every time I blew my nose.<\/p>\n

Somehow Michael and I magically learned to get along when we hit 18 years of age. Michael, who had always teased me for being a vegetarian (calling me “veggie vamp”) became a vegetarian himself. I visited him as he moved from major city to major city around the US. He field-assisted for me in the desert in Nevada when I was working on my Masters degree in geology. He helped collect rock samples, took GPS data, and carried around a big bag full of my rock samples. Not to mention entertaining me by singing around our campsite… I also visited him in Berlin in November 2003 when he was participating in an art show there.<\/p>\n

Michael and I have become good friends in adulthood.<\/p>\n

\nMe and my brother Michael.<\/i><\/p>\n

Michael is currently living in LA with his long-term girlfriend Molly. He is an artist, showing on both the East Coast and West Coast as well as Berlin, Germany. You can check out some of his work on his web site at dodgemahal.org<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Question of the Day (directed at my family members): Any Michael stories to add? Any stories of my cruelty toward Michael growing up?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"