Dear Big Brother,
Today, you would have been 58 and in a few short weeks, I’ll be 50… You could see 50 so closely the day you left this world, were you excited about it?
This is such a weird journey on my own. Yes, I have lots of people in my circle, many of the names and faces you would remember. Our family-circle has shifted and changed and it still isn’t right without you here. Even though we not super involved in each others day-to-day life; I always had the promise of you. I always knew you were at the other end of an email or phone call. And now, now I can’t help but feel a little lost.
So in true Little Sister fashion, Big Brother, I have a few questions…
Is there Bingo in heaven, if not, I bet Mom is super pissed
Has Dad made peace with God yet?
Is Grandma Hedges still gloating over all the times she gave me the wrong ingredients to a recipe, so I’d fail and she would be needed to make it right?
Is Uncle Stan still playing the piano and telling bad jokes?
Did DiAnn make in the gate ok? She probably gave Saint Peter a rough time
I don’t remember Grandma Blanchard, does she remember me?
Does Jesus still do the water into wine trick? Golly, I hope so
Uncle Hink still has a harem, doesn’t he?
Will you save a seat for me, next to you? I’ve got a lot of shit yet to do here and lots of people to annoy.
Miss you much.
p.s. I still haven’t forgiven you for locking me in the dryer, but we’ll hash that out when I get there
I miss the days of the 6 o’clock news. The days before CNN and other ’round the clock news channels. When the news was a matter of reporting facts. The stuff that happened, the weather and sports. Simple.
In my little community, our newscasters were rockstars. The female weather caster with instantly recognizable hair, became the go-to hairstyle for many a local lady.
We would see the lead newscaster out and about in the grocery store and lose our mind. We’d begin conversation like we were talking with a movie star, I wonder how many autographs were signed in the produce aisle.
Today we report on the celebrities and the stupid crap we are supposed to be impressed by. We’ve made people famous for being absolutely shameless attention whores with zero talent. I just don’t get it.
Athletes making more money than any human aught-to for playing a game. Their political opinions and shenanigans shame their team. If any one of us were to behave so audaciously on our jobs, we’d be canned immediately.
Take back your/their opinions and agendas. Take back your reality tv. (Or the perception of reality.) Take back the tv that does nothing to feed your soul or fill our life.
Give me back my 6 o’clock news. Give me back the way meals were shared around a table, as family. Give me back the ability to see facts and truth played out on the news.
Give me back my Saturday mornings. Start the day with Davey & Goliath and a little bit of principles and values. Give me back, Mr Mustache and the simplicity and silliness of my childhood. The absolute awe and wonder of puppets and turning a letter of the alphabet into a cartoon.
I don’t want to be a child again, just have a childlike joy and faith. Simple. Before the world spun out of control. Life. Simple.