The Other Elisson.
Yes, my Kid Brother - the other Elisson - turns fifty today.
I can still remember that June day in 1956 when my mother, heavy with child, was carted off to the hospital to deliver The New Baby. I asked her to bring me back a brother...and that is exactly what she did.
As kids, The Other Elisson and I were just far enough apart in age so that we were not constantly competing with each other. We spent, as brothers do, a fair amount of time getting on each other’s nerves. But that’s part of being a family.
With a four-year age difference between us, we never went to high school together; we attended our respective colleges sequentially, which may have eased the Pocketbook Strain on the ’Rents. And after college, while I began traipsing about the country in the service of the Great Corporate Salt Mine, my brother stayed put on Long Island. Accordingly, we don’t see each other as often as I’d like. Nevertheless, we’ve developed a recent tradition of having him visit during Passover, which allows us to spend Quality Family Time being constipated together.
Fifty years sounds like a long time. It is...but at fifty-three plus, I don’t feel especially old, and I hope my Baby Brother is the same way...despite his having a Receding Hairline that is a couple of steps ahead of mine. Harh!
The only person I have known longer than The Other Elisson is Eli, his ownself, whom I have known all my life. But my Bro is a close second.
Happy birthday, me Bruddah! The traditional greeting is “bis hundert-tzvantzik yoor,” which means “until 120 years.” May you have that, all in good health and prosperity...and with my love.
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