You have a brother??

I recently mentioned, in casual conversation with a close friend of mine, that my brother was born 11 months after I was born.
His reaction? Disbelief: "You have a brother??"
I smiled, waiting for the punch line: from the moment we met more than 5 years ago, the Godfather has spent nearly all of our time together teasing me. We, his friends, call him the Godfather because he is usually off doing God knows what, not responding to e-mail or text; plus, he is Italian and fancies himself very wise! In reality he is is extremely naive, more than me even, and that is saying A LOT; nevertheless, very generous, and a really smart guy so a great pleasure to hang out with.
"Yeah, why not?" I reply, "I'm afraid there is someone very much like me hanging about somewhere in the world."
"No, seriously, you really have never mentioned a brother! In fact, not long ago I was reflecting on what it was like for you to be an only child!"
"An only child??" I asked, equally incredulous now.
"Yes!" he replied, "Oh, wait, what's wrong with me? Of course: you have a sister! How could I have forgotten that?"
(And two nephews thank you!)
"Why would you think I was an only child?" I asked, puzzled.
"Well, because you are so self-centred, and spoiled!" he smiled, back to his teasing.
"But seriously, tell me more about him!" he prompted after a while; and so I did.
My brother and I, as far as I can remember, were quite close growing up. Being the only boy, of course, meant that he was a little spoiled, but luckily I was perfectly secure in my first born status and didn't mind too much.

"I cannot believe that I really have never mentioned him" I said to the Godfather, "But thinking about it now, we do seem to have really drifted apart in the last few years. I think it all started when he moved out of home for the first time, at quite an early age too."

"When was this?"

When was it indeed? I could not remember! I thought for a minute.

"Well, he wasn't that young probably, maybe 25? I think I did not live at home during that period either so I cannot recall exactly," I said.

"And why would you have lost touch - didn't he visit?"

"Yeeeah, I guess, though I don't remember him visiting that much; nobody really even knew where he lived exactly!"

"What? How?!? Not even his Mother"

(Did I mention that my friend was Italian?)

"Sure!" I said, "It is quite normal for people not to know where a boy lives - it is part of letting him start his own life I guess. Of course we knew the general area but I don't recall actually going there until he had been living there for some years!"

"So what's he like then, your brother?"

"Oh, really brilliant, I have to say. And sooo funny, even funnier than me, if you can imagine that" I teased

"Oooh, believe me, that is too easy," he teased back.

"Yeah, anyway; he is also really social: he has A LOT of friends!"

"Hm. that's just like my own brother" my friend returned; but you know, having so many friends and being so funny does not always mean some one is happy, or well really" he added somberly.

"Hmmm," I mused.

"My brother is also really brilliant, and very very funny. In fact, even though he is generally a reserved person, when there is a big group of people he can really make entertain you!! Yeah... he almost becomes a clown!" he finished quietly.

"Really..." I smiled. "Hey, did you know, by the way, that very humorous people are also highly intelligent? Someone told me this recently..."

"Yeah, yeah, of course."

"Was it you?" I continued.

"No, but it is quite obvious" he remarked dryly.

"You know you are one of the least humorous people that I know actually..." I begun.

"Yeah, yeah, Vive," he countered, "But I am funnier than you so you really don't want to go there" he countered with a smile

"Whatever" I smiled back. "Well anyway, thinking about it now, I wonder why we drifted a part like this. For sure he has not been very well for some years now, your observation about having so many friends not necessarily meaning that he is happy is quite accurate."

"Hmm." he agreed. "My brother certainly was not doing well for a long time, I don't know what happens to these brilliant people but at one point, they seem to lose it. Sometime after he turned 21 he simply couldn't be bothered to do anything with himself, failed to finish his studies and basically..."

"Weird...This is more or less what happened to my brother"

Nodding his head he continued "In my brother's case, it was not until he met this girl that click, he got his act together. He will finally finish his degree next February. His friends have already been out of school and working for almost 10 years!"

"Oh my! But that is great. On the other hand, I think my brother's crisis was accelerated by a girl. They lived together for a while and he told me several times that he loved the girl to death but that the constant fighting was driving him crazy! No matter how careful he was not put a foot wrong there was always something. One day he just turned up at home and told us they had broken up!"

"Ah."

"Yeah. The way I remember it, he was so distraught that stayed at my parents' home for a few days to stabilise, and then I don't know how that story went but I think he never left again.

"Oh, and is he still there?"

"Yeap!" I replied.

My friend looked at me quizzically, "Really? Aaand how old is he?"

"34! No, 35, one year younger than me, remember?"

"NOOO!" he laughed, "Vive, 35?? What does he do?"

"He is self employed; ICT. He doesn't have a registered company or anything but he does get quite a lot of work. And from what his clients say, he does a very good job too."

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," the Godfather said.

"Yeeaah, well, there is only one problem" I added sceptically "His clients can only contact him by phone, and he is always losing it! I think it is part of his self-destructing behaviour"

The Godfather nodded thoughtfully "Self-destructive behaviour, yes. I recognise that."

I shook my head in wonder "Seriously, he has maybe lost 90 telephones, I don't know! Luckily, he gets quite well paid when he does finish a job so it keeps him for a while"

"Well paid, huh?" he said.

"Yeah, the guy make more for three days' work than I, I don't know, than I - "

"Than you make in a month?" he threw his head back and guffawed "In a YEAR? Heheehhehehe"

"Silly!" I said, kicking him under the table "No, seriously. The only problem is that as soon as he makes the money then he parties for days and days with his friends, and then suddenly has no money, and he has NO phone!!"

"Hehehehe, that's funny"

"I know. Well, not so funny but anyway, when he is on one of these drinking sprees my mother cannot sleep a wink, waiting for someone to ring her and tell her her son has been run over or been injured in a bar fight or something! As for my Dad, the whole thing frustrates him so much he doesn't know which way is up anymore. One day he is trying to be conciliatory and fatherly, the next he is pulling his beard off and screaming at my brother! Their only son and all that, it gets pretty crazy"

"Well, can't you guys say something? Help him?"

"Ah, I have to say that we have not been too successful. For my part, our communication has broken down so much that we always end up shouting at one another and storming off! It is really too bad because he has so much wasted potential"

"Yeah, I can imagine; with my brother, of course, none of us dared say anything so... It has to come from the person himself I think."

"Well, there you are. I personally do not know what to do, and I have kind of given up. My Dad and Mom try their best but sometimes I wonder if the best thing is not to just cut him lose and let him find his level, maybe something will happen that will bring him back to his senses. I don't know."

The Godfather was due to present a paper in Israel the following week, so I decided to change the subject and asked him if he was looking forward. When I got home later that day I thought back to our conversation, and the question still reverberated in my head:

"You have a brother?"

A Bowl of Spinach

I find the weekends that I spend away from the city, and in the little village where I live and work, very relaxing indeed. I have no want of electricity, flowing water, internet, and even World Cup action, which I can catch on an ancient and fuzzy television at the staff pub. Not to mention fresh produce, cheap fruit and more fresh air than anyone can use! The best part of these weekends is the opportunity to try out new recipes, but even better, to dust off old endlessly modified favourites, and this weekend was no exception. On Friday afternoon I bumped into a villager selling fresh spinach and I wasted no time buying myself a bunch, thus setting myself up on a date with some creamy spinach for lunch on Saturday.

Midway through my lazy Saturday, I get up from watching the final season of 'Ugly Betty' (riveting stuff!) and quickly dice the spinach, wash it and stuff it into my biggest saucepan (which is not all that big to begin with). I have some left over rice in the fridge and figure this will go well enough with the spinach and cut cooking time. I cut up some onions and tomatoes and add them to the spinach. In deference to my housemate, I desist from the garlic; she is not even home this weekend but that girl can smell garlic on you one week after you eat it; and since I have been eating liberal amounts of the stuff for a whole week, and given her gracious suffering through the ordeal, I am prompted to go easy on the garlic for a little while.

I grind some black pepper and rock salt over the spinach, and finish with a sprinkling of mixed herbs and a drizzle of olive oil. I plonk the pan on my one burner gas stove, turn down the flame and return to the Ugly Betty. One episode later I return to put the finishing (and essential) touches to the spinach - it usually tastes pretty good without these but I am in the mood to treat myself: out come the cream (a modest dollop mind you) and 'Royco' - a wonderful invention if you ask me: it is a soup thickening agent made up of God-knows-what, and probably a healthy dose of that salty stuff you find in Soy Sauce what's-its'-name. Once things are bubbling away again, I take one of my airtight freezer food-keeping-containers (what are those things called?) and fill it up with some of the spinach, leaving just enough for my lunch. I take the cold rice and, wanting to minimise dirty saucepans, plop it into the spinach that is still simmering on the stove - I know - I am losing the gastronomical plot here but hey - it will all end up in my stomach anyway. The rice proves to be too voluminous for the spinach left in the saucepan so I reach for the one in the food-keeping-container so that I can add some more to the pan but suddenly the stupid container begins to slip out of my hand and a frantic heart-stopping second later the container is face down on the floor!

With a gut wrenching 'NOOOOOO!!!' I dive to save some of the spinach by turning over the container and feverishly picking off the leaves on top and back into the container. 'No, no, no...' I whimper. I subconsciously wonder when my floor was last swept' but block out the answer and step up my efforts by scooping the creamy sauce off the floor with both hands thinking the spinach was hot when it poured so it must have sanitised the floor - ouch, ouch - hot, hot. When I can scoop no more sauce off the floor, I turn to the walls but stop myself in mid-reach; only then does the smell of burning penetrate my awareness. I pick the container of rescued spinach off the floor and spin towards the stove, knock off the cover with my bare hands and pour some more spinach into the rice, vigorously scraping the sides and bottom of the pan to dislodge the sticking rice. I cover the pan and turn back to the carnage to survey the damage.

Spinach is clinging to the wall and to the curtain hanging over the door that leads out of the kitchen into the backyard. There are smears of sauce on the door itself, and splotches of sauce and spinach on my trouser bottoms and on my leather sandals. I hold up my hands and seeing the layer of sauce on them, briefly consider flicking my fingers dry into the rescued sauce but abandon the idea. I take myself to the sink and wash my hands, then take a kitchen cloth and wipe down the wall and door, all the while inwardly mourning my creamed spinach - that stuff is seriously delicious.

I take my warmed rice & spinach mixture (or gunk, if I am honest) off the stove and pile it, steaming, into my soup bowl, and kicking off my soiled sandals climb back up on my bed and resume watching 'Ugly Betty'. I take a moment to reflect over what I would normally consider mad, unhygienic behaviour and feel not the least bit of concern - if you had ever tasted that spinach, or if you could have smelled it as it cooked, you would have done the same.

So: I watch my show, and sure I occasionally bite on some grit, but I still enjoy my spinach very much :-)

I say NO, he hears maybe, or even YES! :-/

I walk out of the cinema on a balmy Sunday evening with a girl friend and as soon as I switch on the phone it starts to ring. My relaxed mood evaporates immediately as I see who it is: I am reminded of my resolution to put an end to this nonsense once and for all by the end of the day. I ignore the call and it goes to voicemail. We resume our dissection of the the newest Sex and the City Movie (II), and agree that although parts of it were over the top, it was watchable on the whole. For once I also saw why the fashion is so much a part of the SATC experience - I simply loved the outfits; and as for the furniture!!

Anyway, my friend and I had earlier agreed to swing by a trendy bar that had been open for sometime on the roof top of the building complex; as an architect, she was keen to check it out. It is fantastically expensive but we figure think we can manage a drink of water at the very least. I do not know what it looks like during the day but in the cool night air, I am struck again by the beautiful and warm decor, perfectly accessorised by the beautiful people sitting within its inviting interior. Cutting through the bar one can access the outdoor area, which is laid out with high tables and bar stools nearest the exit from the bar, and further out along the edges, lower seating with large cushions and intimate lighting. My friend is oooh-ing and ahhhh-ing as we head to the low seating; we take a minute to we gaze can see the night sky and parts of the city laid out before us through the glass atop the half wall that runs along the boundary.

After we order our drinks, I decide to check my voicemail to listen to what my latest suitor has to say. He is complaining (as usual) about finding my phone switched off. Irritation wells up within me as I remember that the day before i had told him that I would go to the 7 O'clock movie and naturally my phone would be off. I remember his only response as quipping:

"Well, I am not movie [sic] person so you are on your own," as if I was inviting him along!

The problems that I have with this one are countless. We had met at a cafe not long before, and one coffee date (where two of his friends were present for half it) and some phone calls later, I would not say that he was ringing my bell. Time had come to cut those ties. First I thought I would just make myself scarce and unavailable, but then he'd bombarded me with even more phone calls and kept trying to fit in with whatever I was doing, even driving miles out of his way to give me rides to places. I had finally decided that time had come for me to set him straight on his prospects, but so far I hadn't found quite the words. The original plan was to do it over the telephone but out of some stupid sense of fairness, now I thought I ought to tell him face to face.

You might ask yourself why I felt I had to show such consideration, and how I found myself in this mess in the first place?

Well, this is a result of a new resolution to be more open to guys that I would not normally give the time of day; this in efforts to widen my dating pool and give a chance to those people who once I got to know may be quite worth knowing after all. The game plan is to go on at least three dates - a la 'The Surrendered Single', and having given him a fair chance, decide whether or not I wanted to accept more dates. Unfortunately, although this new attitude had gotten me more dates, they have not exactly been quality dates. I could go so far as to say I attract the most unstable and clingy men imaginable; so much so that I can hardly ever last beyond the first date. These are men, who within hours of our first date (or even during), are usually swearing undying love, and are proposing marriage within the week! And the worst thing is that these are men that I would indeed not give the time of day so to give them my number, I have had to brush aside some serious reservations. After three such men, I am sincerely beginning to ask myself if I shouldn't just go back to my old ways - this hustle simply isn't worth it!

My phone rings and it is him again.

"Where are you?" he snaps - apparently angry I guess.

Holding down my irritation I reply "We are up on the roof top"

"What are you doing up there? I am in the parking lot"

"My friend and I are checking out the new bar up here. Do you want to come up?"

He hesitates for a moment and then snaps "O.k." Gosh.

I had told him the day before that I could not see him today because I had a movie date and he had said he would come by just for five minutes. My attempts to dissuade him had been fruitless so here he was (which begs the question: why he is asking me what I am doing up here?) Later I thought that it was all very well giving him his five minutes, the sooner I got this over with the better; so instead of staying out with my friend, we had agreed to part after he arrived and I could take those five minutes to let him know it was not working out.

My friend and I sip our drinks and take in our surroundings; she is still exclaiming with pleasure and I glad I brought her. We try to talk about this and the other, the movie - nothing! Knowing he was coming up to the top of the building I cannot concentrate. Finally my friend asks:

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

"Oh," I exclaim " would you? I think I will need some back up after all!"

I wondered what exactly he had in mind. His tone over the phone implies that he thought we had a date or something, and yet I told him I could only see him for five minutes. Which is another of his problems - the man simply does not listen to anything I say! My phone rings again, and before I can speak he asks:

"Where are you? Am I in the right bar?" Irritation.

"We are outside" I respond calmly.

"Outside? Why are you outside? Who sits outside?"

I am struck temporarily dumb. I stutter

"What? We - "

"Outside where?" he cuts in.

"Just walk through the bar - we are sitting directly opposite the door to the bar"

I look up as I say this and see him walking rapidly towards us: he comes to a stop next to our table and I introduce my friend. He shakes her hand and quickly says

"Come inside - it is nicer, and you can watch soccer"

"We are not interested in soccer" I retort "go and sit there if you like - I will be with you shortly" To hell with this!

All this time he is maintaining a strange stance - chest out, arms away from his sides, widening all over the place; I am beyond dismayed by his rude beahviour. When he has left I turn to my friend with my mouth open; she is shaking her head:

"Missy, what was that all about?"

"The rudeness!" I reply slowly, amazed.

I slump back in my seat:"I really have to get this over and done with" I think. My friend and I chat on for a while, we agree that I need to get over there and shut this down, but both of us a little afraid of the aggressiveness he has just shown. We decide to return to our original plan - I will go over and talk to him for a few minutes, then return to our date, otherwise if my friend leaves I might never be able to get rid of him (Yeah, I know, I am totally spineless about these things!) The other thing I forgot to mention is that this guy has a military background so I was probably better off not being left alone with him.

I spot him sitting by himself when I go into the bar, eyes trained on the T.V. screen. I walk up and take the stool next to him.

With one eye still on the screen he half-turns to me and says "Are you through?"

"Through with what?" I ask

"Your friend."

"What do you mean? Yesterday you said you only wanted to see me for five minutes so here I am"

"What? Why don't you finish with her and then come back"

"Because I have to take her home" I lie.

"Oh really?" He turns fully " So - I can't see you tonight?"

"But that is exactly what I told you yesterday"

"No goodnight kiss for me then?"

(I'm thinking huh?? He had been nattering on about his good night kiss since after the first date )

"Er, about that..." I say hesitantly, unsure how to proceed "uhm, that is not going to happen I'm afraid"

Puzzled he tilts his head to the side "why not?"

"We-e-ll, for a start, we have hardly been on a date, and -"

"But that is your fault - you are always too busy to see me"

"Well, that is another thing - this is simply not the time for me to start a relationship. I am getting ready to leave the country for a good length of time and this is not something that I can sustain" (taking the wuss's way out)

"Leaving the country? When?"

"Soon."

"But what has that got to do with anything?"

I abandon the wuss-ness, and decide to be truthful "Well, actually not a lot - even if I was not leaving I have known for some time that this was not working"

"What?" He hisses. He grabs my hand "Let's go outside and talk about this."

I wrench my arm away and through gritted teeth say "there is point. And anyway I have to get back to my friend". I soften "You can call me later and talk some more about it if you want. Gotta go now though." I hurry away.

"Wait," he says getting off his stool, "I will walk you both to your car then" I groan inwardly - I had not expected this - actually my friend's car is also in the parking lot so we would now have to go through the charade of getting into mine, and pretend to drive away. I just hoped he did not decide to drive out behind us.

"O.K." I say weakly.

As we walk down to the parking lot, he continues to pointedly ignore my friend, and says hardly anything to me. My friend and I chat uncomfortably until we arrive at my car.

"Right. So talk to you later?" I ask.

"Yeah, I will call you later."

My friend and I hope into my car and drive around in a circle, stop at some supermarket, get some stuff and then I drive her round to her parked car. The man for his part screeches out of the parking lot and heads in the direction of his home.

Later he calls and says that he is really speechless after what I told him; he likes me so much, he does not understand, etc., I tell him we are just not suited and it's best he forgot about me. He pleads with me to meet with him one more time, the following day, for coffee, and I am just so worn out with his begging that I agree.

The next day, I have to fit him into my busy Monday morning schedule and as I expected, our conversation accomplishes nothing beyond wasting my time and strengthening my resolve. I tell him to simply move on, he says o.k, he cannot force me to date him but can we at least be friends? I tell him that never works in my experience, he pleads with me to let him at least call me sometimes (God, the pleading just kills me) I am so exhausted by all this I say fine, whatever; only don't call ten times a day as you have been doing. We wrap that up and he rings me the minute he is back in the office (sigh...) to say again how much he likes me, I tell him he cannot be telling me he likes me if we are just going to be friends and what had we said about the frequent calls? He says oh, sorry - right. Talk to you later then. Exasperation.

To cut that long story short, he calls twice more that day, I pick his first call and ignore the second. Next day he calls and says he's had a great idea: how about before I left the country he took me to his home village to meet his Grandmother (who brought him up mind you) - I give up! Now I ignore all calls and text - maybe that way he will hear the NO more clearly!

I don't know that I will so willingly give my number to the next man that asks for it because this simply too exhausting!