It's ironic that the brother that I am closest to, I am actually closest to (he lives 5 miles from me) My brother Ace first appeared in October of last year in a blog about his twin's pig roast entitled "A Swine Time". http://layersoftheongion.blogspot.com/2010/10/swine-time.html
I didn't give Ace his nickname, his work buds did, but I think it fits him well.
Not everyone can claim a superhero as a brother, but I can. It was only a couple of years ago that I learned that I had a superhero for a brother, and I outlined that story in "They Call My Brother Aquaman"
It's a great read, if I do say so myself.
I introduced my last brother in a blog in January of this year entitled "3 brothers, a Shopping Cart and a Very Steep Hill (http://layersoftheongion.blogspot.com/2011/01/3-brothers-shopping-cart-and-very-steep.html) That particular story was about a wild, careening ride down a path of possible self destruction, but also can be used as an a metaphor for my brother Redface's life.
Although it's a lot like writing your own eulogy, I have to put myself in this blog somewhere, so at the very least my siblings can comment below and tell me if I got it right or not. I use my family that way a lot, like a moral compass or to correct my steering if I get off track. Now that isn't to say I've taken their advice easy or often, but I do take it, I just take it in my own time. I hadn't realized that I had named myself in my blog until a few people had approached me and asked if I was "The Ongion", so I guess I am.
(http://layersoftheongion.blogspot.com/2010/07/first-blog-must-read-for-new-followers.html) which seems a little conceited cuz who was following me before I wrote a blog? I think a little conceited is an apt description of me sometimes, and sure throw in narcissistic as well. Let's start with my childhood too. Being the youngest boy in the family, and the baby for a 4 year period, I got a lot of attention and a lot of resentment for that attention. I know because when my sister was born after me I resented her stealing all my attention. If brother Redface ran for finding meaning, I ran for the spotlight in the room. It happened more after High School, but I was the class clown for a lot of my life, and I wasn't voted most talkative, because I was a shrinking violet. I wasn't athletic in High School (I tried volleyball for a season), but I was industrious, and worked all the way through, mostly slinging wings at Papa Franks. I valued my friendships highly then, and still do, but admittedly the group has changed over the years. I am a family man. I never miss our reunions and have helped to plan and generate a few of our events that thrust us together all year, the golf tournament, the progressive dinner, family camping trips, men's shopping night, Thanksgivings, and the occasional Yarger bar crawl (One time we did this in Geneva, in a bar with a predominantly Black clientele and just enjoyed the patrons walking in, and then back out again to check and see if the bar had sold) I started a family web site over 12 years ago, Yarger World (that's not conceited, that's just factual) that is still very active today. I learned how to be a Dad from mine and I hope when people see me parent, they see some of my Father in me. I spent a lot of my life rebelling against rules and the establishment, whether this was at my jobs (sorry former bosses), at home (sorry Mom and Dad), or in organizations I joined (sorry everyone else). I'm not saying I can't control this behavior, but every personality profile done on me has identified this trait, that I don't value order and discipline like most people. Back to my description, I married my wife 24 years ago, and we both think we got the better part of the deal. I have 3 children that have survived growing up with a Father like me and thrived in the environment. I'll describe myself as intelligent, family-focused, seeking God (but looking when convenient) an attention whore, a certified pain in the ass, a salesman, a decent father and husband and a faithful friend. Oh, and I like to drink Sapphire gin and smoke cigars, meet me, The Ongion.
My next sister I haven't really introduced yet, as I hadn't decided on a moniker for her completely, until now. This one is taken entirely from our childhood, and in my recollection it defined her to me and maybe others in my family. I'll call her Tear-y (pronounced teery). If I was the crybaby in the family up until then, when she came along, she brought that title to new, unseen before, levels. She'd cry when I'd scare her, she'd cry about life and boyfriends, about being treated unfairly, about chores, and even about Birthday spankings.
I'm going to have some fun with naming or rather, not naming my last sister. The best TV shows keep you guessing about certain characters, like why you never saw Wilson's face on Home Improvement or why it took so many years to name Kramer on Seinfeld, so for now I'm calling her She-who-shall not-be-named. I'm mainly doing this because I can capitalize on all those kids searching the Internet for Harry Potter references and end up skewing the numbers of hits on this blog, but also because I'm not ready to name her yet.
This brings the family primer to a close. I am sure there will be some discussion on how I've characterized by siblings, I can hardly expect everyone to share my opinions, how could they, they haven't had the same experiences with and around them that I have. Many years ago I heard a great story from a former Catholic priest Father Jim Callan. It was about a priest in Maryland who made sandwiches each day and distributed them to the homeless in a local park. On a slow news day, his story got picked up by the news wires and people started sending in unsolicited donations. Father Callan said each check was sent back with the same unapologetic note that simply read "Make Your Own Damn Sandwiches" So, to my critics, I simply offer the same advice, write your own damn blog...... so says the Ongion..