HAPPY BIRTHDAY! #88

My text message from my son buzzed twice before I woke up this morning. I like it a lot when he texts me on Sundays. He goes to the office for a few hours and gets organized for Monday--which I totally agree is a good idea: that's my boy! He included in his message that today is his brother's 40th birthday. He said that #88 is his brother's favorite number for Dale Earnhardt. I am not interested in NASCAR; more I like muscle and funny cars but they seem to get into NASCAR in his Las Vegas encircle and so be it.
...Anyhow this entry is a birthday tribute to my son's brother. He was born in 1970 and that makes him a dog in the Eastern Zodiac which is a cool sign.

Dogs are:

responsible

reliable

honest

compassionate

and nosy-

...When I went to Las Vegas for Stone's graduation from University of Nevada, I saw this lad, D., for the first time in six years on the patio of Stone's house at the party that night. What no one observed, not my son nor my former wife, is that when D. saw me he came over and gave me a big hug. We have always been fond of each other; and, it started when I used to pickup Stone and take him to Children's Fairyland in Oakland, and frequently I would offer to take D. with us and I would treat him just as well as would my own son. He has never forgot our excursions but other relatives have forgotten about my investment in that boy, so when I asked for D's phone number in order to text him happy birthday, my request was deflected. The sore point I see here is that no matter how pure intentions, it is a tough task to jump the fence of righteousness.

...Anyhow, I have been thinking about this little epigram--that was published somewhere, that I wrote many many years ago--and debating about publishing it here in my blog ever since I met up again with that amicable young man once again on Indie-Stone G. Jone's patio,

somewhere, somewhere in Las Vegas:
I love my son

I love his brother

Tell me God,

Why can't I love

Their mother?

Happy birthday D.,

Kamaroh