If you think I'm crazy, you need to meet my brother!

I have only one sibling, my brother Doug. He is quite the character, extremely smart, (mensa smart) and a very talented musician and instructor. Doug and his wife Marilyn will be celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary next week, so he has been on my mind recently.

Doug wrote this introduction a couple of years ago for our family website. It still makes me laugh because I guess he and I both inherited our dad's warped sense of humor! After I post this, I will probably drive away any sane people who read here. LOL!

Anyway, take it away Doug!

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Contrary to popular rumor, I was born at a very early age (legend has it that this event occurred 12 years and 2 months after the Area 51 sighting. Coincidence? You decide). Having nothing better to do at the time, I grew larger and heavier. This freaked out my parents and sister so much, they moved from Detroit to Livonia, Michigan in 1964. Unfortunately for them, I followed them over there.

They placed me in a room, painted it yellow, and told me never to climb out the window or stick my fingers in the electrical outlets. I often obeyed them. When the 1970s came around, my frizzy, singed hair blended in perfectly with the hairstyles of the time.

I eventually escaped the house, and went to Central Michigan University, and then Eastern Michigan University, where I majored in Goofing Off. Well, I guess I didn’t do such a great job at it, because I graduated from EMU on the Dean’s List. During that time, I flew to Europe (well, actually I was a passenger on a plane), for a concert tour. Europe is still recovering.

Next, I went to Wayne State University for graduate school. A lot of people I talk to complain they can never find the state of Wayne on a map. During this time, I appeared in a number of musical shows, including a production of Gilbert & Sullivan’s "Iolanthe." One day, I was putting up posters for that show, and I got really lost—in fact, I ended up on the campus of Marygrove College, where I bumped into this really cute girl named Marilyn. She was 28 at the time, but she looked more like 22. I asked her to give me directions, and then I asked her if she would marry me. She said, “What are you talking about?”

It took about three years for us to convince ourselves that we could actually survive the marriage thing, and decided to get all dressed up and stuff and have a party. Oh, and there was a ceremony, too. And, within 3 days after that (April 30, 1994), I grabbed my Master’s of Music diploma from Wayne State, grabbed Marilyn, and we ran off to Oklahoma City. Stephanie, who had been living in the city for 12 years already, looked surprised to see us on her doorstep. I always wondered why her shutters were closed and locked for many months after that. Steph—was that Andy’s idea?

And then 3 years almost to the day of our wedding (May 1, 1997), Marilyn & I stopped by Integris Hospital, you know—just to look around and stuff. Well, darned if some baby didn’t show up all of a sudden! Hey, I thought it was way cool…I ran up and down the halls pushing the baby in that plastic cart, setting off alarm bells all over the hospital. It took a while to decide upon a name for the child…we once considered “Zorch,” “Titan,” “Archipelago,” “Kwashiorkor,” and “Sporiferous,” but we settled on “Victoria.”

In spite of us, Victoria is a beautiful, intelligent child. Marilyn—what went wrong??

And, after several glorious years of apartment dwelling (complete with nosy neighbors and shoddy maintenance), we now have our own little house in The Village! I now have my own little corner of the place to work on my composing and stuff…and that I do between running to choir rehearsals, services, and concerts, and running to my music students’ lessons (piano, voice, and sometimes music theory and composition). And if I’m lucky to have a little bit of free time, I join in with a Tai Chi club.

And Marilyn STILL doesn’t look as old as she is!

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Doug, always keep that humor, it is your hallmark. And, a very happy anniversary to you and Marilyn!!

Love,
Steph