Brett.

My family reads my blog. This means my brother and my mom. Also, my grandfather read one of the posts that my mom printed out and had Grandpa read, the one about him My mom told me that one of my posts had alot of typoes. Thanks for the encouragment, Mom. My brother, on the other hand, tells me that my blog rarely mentions him. You know what, Dustin? You live two hours away and never call. No wonder you're never around to inspire my blog. Either way, I’ve been trying to write some more about you recently. I called him today, though. I had bought a pair of shoes that I knew he would have appreciated, so I had to let him know. (He was pretty indifferent to my shoes, unfortunately.) However, in the midst of this conversation we decided it would be more fitting to write a blog about Brett. I have also told Brett this to feed his narcissism, and he was quite pleased with the idea, of course. So, Dustin and I decided that it would be fitting to write a blog about Brett, a blog trying to tell the world what it’s like to know someone as interesting and individual as Brett. So, I wrote a rough draft and emailed it to Dustin. He wrote more and emailed back. The final effort is a blog written by both of us, in third person so as to avoid narrator confusion. Bonuses if you can tell who wrote which part! And, let it be known that this is out of the ordinary for my blog, or for the topic of my posts. This is solely a tribute to Brett for the sake of honoring Brett. Now, throughout childhood, every family has a child that makes a friend that feels so welcome that they begin to forget that they don’t actually live in your house. Or maybe they just are testing the limits to see how far they can go until the family actually does something about it. In the case of this family, Brett would be the friend. Dustin and Brett met at church in first grade. Dustin walked into the Sunday School classroom, where Brett said, very properly and enunciated, "Hello, my name is Brett, and this is my friend Benjamin." Brett spoke in a voice so proper, it was borderline British. With a hint of superiority that others accepted with pity. The poor kid. This was the beginning of their friendship. Now, Dustin and Andrea were very close, so if one of them had a friend, the other was around. As such, Andrea also became friends with Brett, though not with the self-sacrificing effort of Dustin. When Dustin and Brett were pretending to be Steve Irwin, catching frogs and lizards around the house, Andrea was the camera person, yelling in terror as the frog came within inches of the lense. However, this did not stop Andrea from filming. The footage of Brett hanging upside in a tree speaking in an indecipherable Australian accent would not have been possible without Andrea’s bravery, determination and boredom. Mostly boredom. Anyways, Brett was the youth pastor's son, so there was always this lovely picture on his father's desk of Brett at like, five years old, with the weirdest hair style ever seen. It kind of did a circle on his head. The back was combed in one direction and the front in the other. And he was wearing a bow tie. This is also how Dustin found Brett that first day in Sunday School. As time went on, Brett became more comfortable in their house. He knew where the secret key was, so he was always willing to let himself in. One day, Dustin and Andrea were home alone, laughing, and suddenly they heard a loud laugh from the living room, only to discover Brett, without calling or ringing the doorbell, was in their living room. He wanted a movie, which he took, along with the cookies Andrea had just made, and left. Likewise, one time Andrea was home alone, looking at her bookshelf, and Brett walked by her doorway, took a movie from Dustin's room, and left. He didn't even say hi, he just kind of nodded and left. Andrea was a little shocked, but understood that it wasn’t nearly as weird as the situations in which Dustin often found himself, like walking out of the bathroom in a towel to see Brett sitting in the living room. This happened on two separate occasions. It sometimes seems as if Brett enjoys just sneaking into the house, even if he isn’t making a surprise visit. He creeps his car into the driveway and parks behind the van. Only when he is certain that his presence will not be detected does Brett emerge from his car. His cocoon. Butterfly Brett flutters to the front door, but nobody is aware. The creak of the front door is muted by Andrea’s constant singing. Only after closing the door and kicking off his shoes in the living room does Brett feel victorious. But the mission still isn’t complete. Brett sits and waits. Quietly. Quiet as a mouse. Mickey Mouse. The original Mickey Mouse. And Andrea’s obnoxious singing in the other room is the musical score. As Dustin nears the living room, Brett prepares for the big surprise. This usually consists of Brett just sitting there quietly until he is discovered, but Dustin sure is surprised. And the show’s over. Once, Dustin and Andrea were serving elderly people at a banquet. Dustin was hoping they would surprise him and give him a college scholarship like they had given Andrea the year before. Dustin went to wait tables. Andrea went to help, to play the piano. Old people enjoy Andrea’s piano playing. Andrea enjoys showing Dustin up, supposedly. Dustin can’t play the piano, or any instrument for that matter. But he has a lovely voice. Not for singing, but for saying nice things like, “Shall I get you another glass of lemonade Ms. Thelma? Oh! Ms. Thelma, have I told you lately that your cornbread is utterly scrumptious?” He didn’t get a scholarship. Anyways, after Andrea was finished playing the piano and Dustin was finished with waiting, they made their way out the door to Dustin’s truck. It was like any ordinary evening. The orange glow of the sun reflecting off of the wet pavement reminded Dustin of Andrea’s fingers after she puts Cheetos in her turkey sandwich (its tasty, I recommend trying it sometime.) The deafening hum of dreaded locust filled the summer air. The smell of—What was the smell? The ocean? No, but close. More fishy. Oh, right! The smell of the monstrous fish in the back of Dustin’s truck. For whatever reason, Brett had decided to put a fish in the back of Dustin's truck. A very large fish that would need to be disposed of. Dustin went into a state between laughing and crying, while Andrea stared at Dustin, bewildered. Dustin still has a plan of action involving Brett’s car if he ever hits a deer. Brett is quite the prankster. The prank that he pulled on Dustin at the end of their senior year, although rather simple, became the talk of the town. Or at least the talk of their extended group of friends. While Dustin was at school taking an IB test, Brett and another friend snuck into the house and began rearranging Dustin’s room. They put all of his knickknacks and other clutter in the closet and moved the furniture around. They then plugged all of the electric devices back into the walls and set all of the clocks. Dustin has quite a few clocks. They also left a few more surprises for Dustin to later discover. Anyways, as they finished their prank, Andrea and Dustin’s dad got home from a dentist appointment. Brett told him that they were waiting for Dustin to get home but were tired of waiting and were leaving, and they escaped. Nobody even wondered what they were doing in the house with nobody home. It’s typical. So Dustin got home from school and assumed “the position” on the couch. This consists of his head on one armrest, his feet on the other armrest, laptop on stomach (not on lap for safety reasons), and TV on. During this period of relaxation, Brett made a surprise visit and sat down to watch some TV. After a short period of time, Dustin had to go to his room for something. Upon opening the door, Dustin was completely confused. Everything was wrong… but right. Clean. Clocks set. He froze for a moment, wondering if he had done this in his sleep or something when Brett suddenly burst into laughter from the living room. Brett continued to stand outside the room and laugh as Dustin struggled to put every piece of furniture back in its proper location. During this process, Dustin discovered that his coin jars had been mixed up. Dustin has individual jars for pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters, but they had all been mixed together. The background of Dustin’s computer had also been changed to a picture of four very large men and a midget wearing different colored wrestling singlets. Brett was proud of that one. Brett and Dustin always talked about filming their rides in cars because the strangest things would always happen. Things like hot sauce fights with friends in other cars and discussions with employees at drive-thrus. With that said, it turns out Brett destroys movies. Home video type movies. When Dustin and Brett went to Atlanta, Dustin brought a camera. Without it, Brett would have been very bored. But with a camera, he just lights up. However, he says the weirdest things. There will be a great shot of footage for youtube, and then Brett says some weird thing that makes little sense and ruins the footage, since there is nowhere for the convo to go from there. Except downhill. Granted, the conversation he ruined was Dustin being Sundance and Brett being Butch, both with heavy southern accents talking about their opinions on the world, so there wasn’t much hope for that conversation to begin with. So much more could be said. Pixels could be filled with more words telling of the Pig in the Poke games in camoflauge in the woods, or of Brett honestly believing in freshman year that he was Spiderman. Or that he was black. Or that he was married to Jessica Alba. Or his obsession with applesauce, and the time Dustin, Andrea and Brett tried to make applesauce, which involved a blender, apples, a microwave, spices, and some unhappy taste buds. Or what about Brett’s love of Patrick from Spongebob? Or Brett's Shakira imporsonation? Or Brett’s obsession with tights and pleasing the people? Or Davey the Shark? Or Brett’s sideburns? There are so many stories, so many events, memories and the such. Words could never fully explain the flair, the eloquence, the style of Brett. This blog could never do justice to the stories, the memories, the trauma that’s associated with Brett. But, what would childhood have been like without Brett, without having to learn that your house might not actually be empty, that you cannot convince people out of their delusions, and you never can pull off tights just like some people. Rather, what would the world be like without these people? Thankfully, these are questions that we didn’t have to answer growing up.

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