I have but one sibling. His name is Ryan. I'm four years and change older than him, but usually when people look at us, they either assume that he's older or that one of us is adopted. Sometimes, they guess both.
If it weren't for blood, you'd never know we belonged together.
He's tall. He's big. He's got the kind of personality that has never met a stranger and never will. He looks like he could bench press your house yet has a voice that's as angelic as an Anne Geddes photo. He'd give you the shirt off his back if he could find a clean one. He has the world's worst luck with automobiles. As proof, once I was riding with him in his first truck, and a deer ran past us, turned around and then ran into us.
I'm the reverse of just about every one of those statements. We go together like peanut butter and parsnips, Republicans and Democrats, political blogs on the Patch and kindness in the comment section.
But I love the guy. Go figure.
Lately, though, he's gotten on my nerves. See, , and . He's getting Facebook recommendations out the wazoo, and people are saying really nice things in his comment section. Heck, Sharon even , and it's still in the top five most popular.
And I would be happy for him, but...
I've always been the writer. It's been my one thing, my hook, the special talent that I alone possessed that made me worth noting. I mean, I do other stuff, but it's stuff that he does too: only he does it better.
Singing? He wins.
Dancing? He wins.
Sports? He wins.
Burping? He wins.
The written word, however, was where I excelled. It was my domain. My house. Growing up, whenever he would annoy me, I would simply start talking over his head, using obscure words that I didn't even understand just to irritate him in return.
But over the past month or so, he's discovered his voice, unearthed a passion for writing that has turned him into a prolific blogger. He's cranking out unbelievable posts almost daily, and he's not even breaking a sweat. Suddenly, he's the better writer. He's kicked in the door to my house and grabbed a bag of Cheetos, a 2-liter Coke, and has gotten very comfortable on my nice couch.
And I love it.
I will forever carry just the slightest bit of sibling rivalry with him (though now, it's more like sibling write-lry), so seeing him discover this gift with words inspires me to hone my gift even more. And yet I love it because, despite how different we seem, there is no one (save my wife) with whom I have more in common. To share this affinity, to have this love and passion within each of us, just tickles the heck out of me.
So do yourself a favor and check out his posts. Show him some link love. Tweet each one of his posts and leave him some feedback in the comments. I don't mind. I read him daily; I think everyone else should too.
I love my brother, and am proud to call him a brother-in-ink, and even prouder to have him in the Patch family.
Hopefully you will too.