Thirty years ago today, February 26, 1976 was a red letter day. My sister had just turned ten years old (happy 40th, sis!) the day before and my mother was very pregnant. We found out that my as yet unborn sibling was having some problems and needed to be induced. My mother had Rh- blood, and my sibling had Rh+ blood, and as a result, my mother's body was attacking the baby's red blood cells. Here is a little background.

Excessive bilirubin kills developing brain cells in infants and may cause mental retardation, physical abnormalities, or blindness. It is important that bilirubin in newborns does not get too high. When the level of bilirubin is above a critical threshold, special treatments are initiated to lower it. An excessive bilirubin level may result from the breakdown of red blood cells (RBCs) due to Rh blood typing incompatibility. (Mother is Rh negative [Rh-], father is Rh positive [Rh+], and fetus is Rh+; mother develops antibodies against the newborn�?s RBCs, which are destroyed.)

So, that night, my mother went to the hospital and I went over to Brion with an "o" and CW's house and stayed over night. The three of us kids, sis, Putzer, and I were quite concerned. The next day, my brother the Mayor was born, and he was absolutely orange from the jaundice. The next several days were quite stressful and he eventually had a complete blood transfusion in an attempt to lower his bilirubin count. We were concerned that the Mayor would have problems. As it turned out, the Mayor was fine and didn't have any complications (I guess) from his illness.

Now the Mayor is on the verge of turning 30. That makes me feel old because I changed a lot of his (cloth) diapers. He has always been a kid to me. As his older brother (11 years difference), I picked on him quite a bit. I don't think he liked being picked on all that much, but he had a good sense of humor and put up with it (plus, he paid me back big time). The Mayor is a smart guy and has some real talents that I don't possess. When I was a high school kid, my dad bought a car with an manual transmission. I had the darnedest time figuring out how to use that clutch. It was downright embarrassing. So, one day, I decided that I'd pick on the Mayor. I asked him if he wanted to drive the car around the block. He was pretty excited about that and I figured it'd be a good laugh. He'd never driven a car before, and he was about six or seven years old. He got behind the wheel, let out the clutch like a pro, the very first time he tried. The kid was smooth, real smooth. I just looked at him in disbelief. This seven year old kid could handle a clutch with no problem and I took seemingly forever to learn. I couldn't help but admire the kid.

It reminded me of when he was four years old. He wanted to ride a bike, so I put him on the thing and he rode away without falling at all. The kid was so small that he couldn't fit on the seat. He sat on the bar and pedalled away. It was unbelievable. He had tremendous balance and skill when it came to things like that.

The Mayor is a gregarious type of guy. He makes friends easily and is quick with a joke. The Mayor never went to college, but he works hard and he's constantly figuring out a way to make a few extra dollars here and there. Despite the lack of a college education, there's absolutely no question that he's very intelligent. He's got a sharp wit and has a lot of common sense (about some things).

He doesn't just sit on his brains either. He's just 30 now, but he's already been the Mayor of SBGville for a couple of years. He's also the assistant Fire Chief. I suppose you could say that it's not that big of a deal, SBGville is pretty small. Maybe it's not. But, he has decided to serve. He thought the city needed a change. Instead of sitting on his ass and complaining, he's done something about it. He's been a good mayor and he takes pride in his job.

Back in the day, I used to wrestle with him and I always won, because I was older and bigger. Then, one day I was studying in my apartment in Fargo for my final comprehensive exams for my graduate degree. The Mayor was seventeen and just finishing up his junior year in high school. He came up to see me and asked me if I wanted to wrestle. I should have known better. He'd been playing football and was a defensive lineman on a state championship team as a junior. I thought I could take him still. Boy, was I wrong. It seems that my little brother had been lifting and had become pretty darn strong. Plus, he probably outweighed me at the time by a good amount, maybe 20 or 30 pounds. Well, he tied me up like a pretzel. In one fell swoop, he paid me back for all the torture that I'd dished out over the years. In fact, I ended up hurting my back in that little wrestling match, and it has bothered me to this day. Of course, I deserved it.

From that point on, whenever my brother wanted to wrestle, he'd grab me and I'd tell him in my sternest voice possible, "God damn it, don't you hurt me." I think that's why he'd grab me. He wanted to hear that. He'd laugh and let go. The Mayor got the last laugh there.

It doesn't seem possible that that young kid is 30. He's got a two year old boy now who is the cutest thing you've ever seen. The other day he had some pre-school training and he was asked a bunch of questions and he got all the answers right, of course. When he was asked where his feet were, the boy answered, "In my shoes." Funny, just like his old man. The second kid is coming in the next couple of months. I'm looking forward to that day. Happy birthday, brother. It's been a great 30 years. I'm proud of you.