The title of this bit of blog is the subject line of an e-mail I got yesterday. It is from one of my brothers, Mark, whom I've mentioned several times in these missives. Just a little background: after serving our country in the Air Force for many years, he recently retired and has started a second career as a postal worker. Our kids have taken to calling him Newman...after the mailman on Seinfeld but my brother prefers comparisons to Cliff from Cheers...though he laments the lack of as nice a watering hole as the place where everybody knows your name on the TV show. Actually, that last part would be true just about anywhere in our hometown...nobody is anonymous. (It's funny that, now that he's a mailman, his e-mail was actually sent back in September and just arrived now. ) Anyway, sometime ago, I told a story about Mark's giant noggin. It's just a fact: as a child he had a massive melon. He has almost grown into it...almost. Frankly, he'd have to be eight feet tall and 400 pounds to really be in proportion. His hair isn't really thinning. He has just as much hair as anyone but those follicles are fighting a losing battle trying to cover such a wide expanse. Now, to be fair, there is a lot of gray matter inside that super-sized skull.

A few other reminders before we get to Mark's message: I have also mentioned our much, much...much older...in fact, oldest...brother, Randy, on occasion. He was a wrestler in high school and always smelled like oranges. Also, Mark mentions our other brother, Craig, about whom I've not written much. You'll see why as you read on. It's mostly a fear-thing. I've decided Mark deserves to have his side of the story recounted. Why? Because I'm a fair-minded person and it saves me from having to write very much today. Any smart-alecky comments I have to make will be in italics, which I think makes everything seem just a little more witty and intelligent.

"I was recently informed about your Blog. (Sounds like a lawyer...not that I would know what a lawyer letter threatening some sort of court action would sound like.) I feel compelled to clarify, amplify, enhance, explain or just talk about some of the items that have appeared. About the big-headed little cutie in the grainy black and white picture. The picture wasn't really grainy, as such. Back in those days, they didn't have the wide angle lenses to accommodate the size of my huge cranium, so they had to back up far enough to fit the whole beautiful sight in one frame. As for the fly, (The photo being mentioned here, included a fly crawling around Mark's head as he stood in his playpen. He was 18 at the time...the fly, not Mark.) he thought he was safe traversing the huge expanse of a cute baby's head. Unbeknownst to the fly, was the fact, that someone--either a parent or doting older brother--was soon going to swat the heck out of him whilst (Yes. My brother used the word 'whilst.' I only hope he wasn't wearing his frilly shirt, knickers and monocle as he wrote this with his feathery-quilled computer.) still on my head. I'm sure I had more newsprint on my head than most dogs will know in their entire--times seven--lives. Mom and dad didn't need to buy one of those sticky, curly fly strips to hang from the ceiling. They just put me in the playpen, in the middle of the room, to attract the flies and, then, beat the stuffing out of them and, coincidently, me. I'm not sure, but I think Craig planted the flies on me and just sat back and watched the fun. Maybe that's where I got my head for news. Craig tried to do me in on more than one occasion. For example, once, he dropped a training rifle on my head (It was hard to miss.) from the top of the basement steps. I got 17 stitches and he got a Hershey bar and a Coke. (I seem to recall a story about Craig and Mark pretending to be truckers and Craig acting as a guide while Mark backed his three-wheeled "big rig" into a parking spot. Craig kept motioning for Mark to back up until Mark went right off the porch. Maybe Craig just wanted another Hershey Bar.)

Your blog about Randy being a hairy person reminds me of one time in church when I was in junior high and Craig and Randy were in high school. In the pastor's sermon, he referred to Jacob and Esau, quoting scripture saying 'Esau was a hairy man.' Needless to say, Craig and I burst out laughing. From that point on, Randy was also known as Esau. (If Randy was Esau, then Craig and Mark would have been Cain and Abel...we know how that turned out. I guess, from the Old Testament, I'd be one of Joseph's little known brothers, Skip. He did the morning weather on a station in Babel. They had a great tower-cam...for awhile.)

As far as baby-sitting goes, I was the one who watched you most of the time. (Mark is considerably older than I am.) When you were about three or four, I always took you out for bike rides because then the girls would come to see cute, little Joel. You were a great chick magnet. " (Sadly, as I got to be a teenager, I became more chick maggot than magnet. Sometimes I would approach a girl, hold up a picture of myself at age three or four, just to see if it still worked. It came across as a rather pathetic and creepy twist on Dorian Grey.)

Well, that's most of what my brother had to say in his e-mail. I hope there will be more to come. But, I guess I will have to be a little more careful with my facts from now on, since I know there's a witness out there, lurking. A clever writer...with a memory like an elephant...and a head to match. (Sorry. Craig made me say that.)