Number Seven

As with VIII, the age difference between VII and me made it difficult for me to know or interact with him when he was younger. He was 6 when I went on my mission. Granted, I was still living at home for four more years after that - did I say that out loud?

What I meant to say is: I was still living in Provo in very close proximity to my family for four years after I returned home from my mission.

But, I have come to know a little more about David in the past few years. For one, he has made a wise choice in schooling pursuits. Aside from attending BYU, he is finishing his Masters Degree in Accounting next spring. Clearly, I have been a good example to him, as an oldest brother should be.

Look at all the ways he has followed in my footsteps: school, degree, mission, marrying a girl from your mission, being handsome. Okay, so I didn't actually marry a girl from my mission and the handsome gene didn't find him like it did me, obviously.

Dave went to the Phillipines on his mission. That's where he met Jannet. He had been home for about an hour before he purchased a return ticket to the Phillipines to pursue her. Oh, there were familial opinions flying about, you can be sure. But what was important is what is right. They are right. There is no doubt she has been good not only for David, but for our entire family.

Enough about Jannet, this is David's birthday, for crying out loud. David is caring and wants to do the best for his little family. (I say little, but you should see the size of their baby!!) He is supportive of his brothers and parents and loves us all deeply. He is a BYU Football fan.

I love you, David. Happy Birthday.

You Are So Dirty

Just a fun little 10k my brothers and I did on the 25th of September. Other than to say my costume was a Running Ute (which is why I was more than happy to wear these articles of clothing to this particular event), I will leave it at the pictures.

This was near the end of the race on our climb up to...























The "Slop n' Slide!"





Which should probably have been called the "Slide n' Slop."

Approaching the last obstacle...

The "Pig Sty."

Then pictures of triumph.

Number Eight

What a baby. He is the baby. What can you say about the baby of the family? The bottom line is, he looks the same in this picture as he does below.

See, I still remember Alex as this 4-year-old baby brother giving me a big tight hug in the Salt Lake City airport on the day I flew out to Michigan for my mission.

Now he's 24, and, he doesn't really hug tight like that anymore. At least, not his brothers. That's okay with me, though. Besides, I don't think I would pick him up to give him a hug, since he is taller than I am. I am guessing (hoping) that girls may have a different evaluation regarding his hug strength.

As you can see from the picture above, he was an EFY Counselor this past summer. Presumably, not on a fishing expedition. See, he has decided (last I heard) that he wants to work for CES (Church Educational System) - be a Seminary teacher. There are certain requirements to being employed with CES, in addition to standard job qualifications. And one of them has to do with marital status.

So, at the risk of sounding like Beyonce, I am calling all the single ladies to put your hands up and give Alex a call. No pressure. He graduates in April. Plenty of time by BYU standards. Did I mention he is in the BYU Marching Band - the Power of the Wasatch?

Anyway, Alex is an outstanding person and I hope I can be like him some day. I don't mean single.

Happy Birthday, Alex. I love you.

Number Four

Here it is, the latest installment of what I really think about my brothers.

Number Four is, well, very smart. He also was the target of most of our teasing before Number Six came along. Peter tended to be slightly smaller and less athletic than the rest of us - even Number Five. And he was a little, well, book & tech smart.





All of that adds up to one thing:


Oh, it's not nice, to be sure. I can see that now...some 30 years later. And although he is still slightly less athletic than most of the Brothers, he is no longer slightly smaller than most of them. Besides, we have all matured to a point where there is no senseless teasing amongst or targeted at any one of us.

Mom & Dad, please get up off the floor and stop laughing.

Hey, he's a really good uncle to my children. He plays with them and entertains them - most of the time in an age-appropriate manner. Today, he's spending several hours playing Mario Kart with them (their birthday present to him). He even stays relatively patient with them, if he's not in a liquid-waste-poor mood. A bonus - if we avoid the subject of illegal immigration, we can have decent conversations.

These are the things that tend to be more and more important to me. True, he's not married and is not terribly active in the Church right now, but he's only 30-something. He should have another 50-plus years to figure those things out.

In the words of the all-wise Neil Diamond, "He ain't feckless, he's my brother."

I love you, Pete.

Number Three

I am better than Number Three is at everything there is to do anywhere in the world at any time. Let's clear that out of the air right now.

See, he is a little bit competitive and it is important to put him in his place before he does it to you. I believe that's in the Bible. The Golden Rule, or something.

For some strange reason, he likes to name his sons after whiskey. His daughters are not named after perfume or anything, though.

Growing up, I think he & I got along the best of all the brothers. I could be wrong. Mostly, it had to do with him wanting to be as good as me in everything and I enjoyed being better than him all the time.

It's interesting, because as I write about III, I am realizing I am having a difficult time knowing what to say. He always likes to tease and joke around. Yet, for all the joking around and teasing and not taking things seriously, he knows when it is time to be serious. And he is very caring and willing to help out when the time comes. That's not to say he's perfect in this thing, but it is definitely a strength, and I am grateful for him.

Happy Birthday, Danny. I love you.

Number Five

Number Five, or V, is the tallest of the brothers. He is also an Ironman triathlete and a firefighter. He's a wuss. I can totally take him. After all, he is my younger brother. In fact, he's such a wuss, there is nothing he can do about me swiping this recent photo from his family's blog. HA!

Fascinating historical fact: V started the tradition of using my parents' front lawn as additional driveway space.

While he was in High School, after I was home from my mission, I came home one night to find him being dropped off by one of his punk, loser friends. (Well, that's kind of what I thought of them at the time, although time and age have helped me to realize that they were actually good kids - just boys.) His friend had used the front lawn as front-door drop-off service and then kind of peeled out on the lawn.

I might have over-reacted at this point. I slammed the car into drive and proceeded to chase his friend around the foothills of Provo. The chase ensued for probably 75-80 minutes at speeds of up to 100 mph. (Okay, that's an exaggeration, but I don't want to admit the actual time or speeds, or very rough dirt roads we passed over.) When I decided to stop, I came home and asked Number 5 about it.

I remember he kind of laughed it off. I should have, too. There wasn't any damage done to the lawn, really.

Generally speaking, that's him. He kind of lets things slide off and not worry about them if they aren't important. So, from being a ski bum in Chile, to competing in triathlons regularly, to being a firefighter in Park City, he's been rather successful. And, as an older brother I'm a little bit proud of him. But don't tell him that. I'm too proud to let him know.

Happy Birthday, Andy. I love you, Mongo.

Number Two

Get your brain out of the gutter, not THAT Number Two.

I will admit that this may be one of the most difficult entries I will write. See, Number Two is only 14 months younger than I am. For whatever reasons, by the time we were teenagers, we did not get along so well.

I'm not going to air out all the things that happened over the years, but there's been a lot of ugliness - on both sides.

The most important thing to me, however, is seeing how he has made some changes in his life to the point of baptizing his daughter and blessing his son. I know there are many people praying that these changes will continue, myself included. Again, don't expect me to tell him personally - far too much pride going on here.

To this day, we still don't have really extended meaningful conversations, but I can tell you this:

For all the difficulties then and now, I truly love my brother Brian.

Happy Birthday.

Number Six

I am the oldest of eight children. To many in the world, that sounds like a really big family. However, growing up in the heart of Mormondom in Provo, Utah, my family seemed an average size to me. One thing that did set my family's size apart, though, was that all eight of us are boys. What are the odds?

That was a rhetorical question. Being a nerdy accountant-type, I figured out the answer a long time ago. If you really want to know the odds, go ask a statistician friend. If you don't have a statistician friend, be thankful.

Growing up, little brothers are a pain. They get into your stuff, hang around when you have your friends over. Just annoying. Can anyone with little brothers disagree - really? I think not. Yet now, as I am getting older, I am starting to appreciate all of my siblings, regardless of their quirks, neuroses, and other idiosyncrasies.

Perhaps another way to say that is I love them even though they all have habits or personality traits or pets that bug the crap out of me.

Today is the birthday of Number Six. (He's the one on the left.) He has moved away from Utah, for the time being, to attend law school. Law? There's one in every family. To make things worse, he seems to be interested in taxes. And people think I am boring as a CPA. He wants to be a tax attorney.

Wes (Number Six) was the first of the second group of boys. The first 5 of us were each born about a year apart. After that, my parents took a 5-year break (from having kids - I won't guess as to anything beyond that).

Then, Wes came along. How exciting!! Now we had a little brother we could ALL pick on, even Number Five. Without a doubt, he got teased mercilessly throughout his life. Probably more so than even Number Seven and Number Eight. Actually, it hasn't stopped yet, all these years later - including from Seven and Eight. And, because of the teasing he has endured all his life, he has developed a little bit of a complex. You know the one - all actions and comments are always meant to hurt or demean him. More than likely, if you have a large group of siblings, you have one or more in your family.

Yet, for all that, I am thankful I have Wes for a brother. He's been working really hard to become someone who can go and be independent and provide for his family today and in the future. He's striving to raise his family in righteousness. He presses on (despite his complex) and works hard. People who are patient and get to know him, and look past annoyances, or whatever, find him to be a good friend. Heck, Melissa (his wife, pictured above - on the right) seems to love him.

Don't ask me to tell him all that personally, though. My pride is too great for that. But, he can go ahead and read it here. That will have to suffice for now.

I love you Wes. Happy Birthday.