My siblings, part II (of III)
Jul. 5th, 2003 02:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jawnbcI give you Michael Joseph David Egan. Ma calls him Michael; most everyone else calls him
Being a first son isn't easy. And as cacophonous as clan Egan is, so too is Mike introverted and quiet. Always has been--making him a standout for precisely hanging back a bit. As the rest of us lunge forward, nattering and clammering for attention. Nature? Nurture? Is Mike introverted as a response to his environment, or because that's just Mike? Dunno. I do know he doesn't seem to mind the chaos around him.
Twoo story: We 3 boys were in the TV room, watching Bugs Bunny cartoons. We'd lie on our bellys on the carpet, rocking and twitching to a marvellous caffeine and sugar (Coke) buzz. Ma came to call us to dinner (Kathleen!Michael!Tommy and Jawn! always in birth order, always the whole litter rather than individually). Tommy and I reluctantly got up and made our way to the kitchen. Kathleen came down from her room.
No Mike. "Michaaaaaaaaaaael!"
Silence. A furrowed brow. "Michaaaaaaaaaaael! Dinner-NOW!!!"
More silence. A chair slides back on the linoleum; Ma stomps towards the TV room.
"Michael, get up and come to dinner." Still nothing. We creep down the hall to witness (in case the police need particulars). Ma's red in the face, but is keeping her distance from Michael.
Goddamnsonofabitchbastard, Michael don't you DARE ignore me..."
At which point Michael whirls around and indignantly says (without guile), "I shook my head, are you deaf????"
It took Ma 10 minutes to stop laughing. This became Ma's "mothers need charming anecdotes to humiliate their children with" tale for Mike.
Part of it is historical. When Mike was in grade 4 (9 or 10 years old) he had appendicitis and missed a lot of school. Then he detached his retina, meaning more surgery and more missed school. And social interaction. Turns out his teachers wanted Mike to repeat grade4, but Ma wouldn't have it--she knew being in the same grade as your younger brother (Tommy--stay tuned) couldn't help Michael. So he was "socially promoted" but being isolated--and already being an introvert--did affect him. So did being excluded from contact sports due to the eye surgery (liability insurance). Mike is the only true jock in the family, and felt the loss of sport profoundly.
After high school, Mike found his way into the construction industry, specifically tile laying. Among his many projects was #7 World Trade Center in NYC--one of the buildings that collapsed on 11-09-01. When he found the tile stuff had a deliterious impact on his health (knees), he retrained in air conditioning and refrigeration maintenance, still his primary job. For Mike, work has been about having an income/livelihood. Not about a career so much.
What does he do with his money? He plays roller and ice hockey. Surfs, including trips to Gran Canaria and Costa Rica. Dives. And apparently he's a web stud, meeting all sorts of women online...though I can't tell you much more, since he travels in different cyberspaces than me. He does spend a fair bit of $$ on his various computers, including his own irc server. When he wants to acquire more stuff (or take a trip) he picks up overtime tile work on evenings and weekends.
Mike and Ma have a particularly interesting relationship. When we were kids, everyone would've predicted I was the kid who'd never leave home. Turns out it was Mike, at least for a number of years. He had tried the roommate thing, found it lacking. So he moved home, and it worked well for everyone. Ma loves Mike's arid sense of humour, and he's always been able to tease her in a way that pleases all. His pet nickname for Ma is GrandBimb, short for Grandma Bimbo. Because being a grandmother has transformed Ma from a by-the-iron-hand mother into a I-just-want-them-to-love-me grandparent. GrandBimb loves it.
Mike also brought the first dog into my parents' home in 15 years. Deeogie (D. O. G.) was a rescue shephard/husky, big as a house and pure puppy. Ma and Da quickly got over their reservations and nurturing the beast in ways never occurred to them to nurture their bloody children. Good thing I'm not resentful, eh? Sadly Deeogie had to be put down (hips), but now Sam(antha) has taken his place.
And Mikes--he moved out about 5 years ago. In typical Mike fashion, my parents seem him about half a dozen times a year, though he lives 3km/.5 miles from them. If they need him, he'll come. But Mike's not much for idle chatter.
With regards to mine and Mike's relationship, several in the family presume we are estranged. Not at all. We're happy to see one another when we do, and we chat for a bit, then the conversation falls away. I know Mike well enough to see this as his way.
I should know, he's my brother.
Here's Mike and me at my parents' 40th a few years back
Being a first son isn't easy. And as cacophonous as clan Egan is, so too is Mike introverted and quiet. Always has been--making him a standout for precisely hanging back a bit. As the rest of us lunge forward, nattering and clammering for attention. Nature? Nurture? Is Mike introverted as a response to his environment, or because that's just Mike? Dunno. I do know he doesn't seem to mind the chaos around him.
Twoo story: We 3 boys were in the TV room, watching Bugs Bunny cartoons. We'd lie on our bellys on the carpet, rocking and twitching to a marvellous caffeine and sugar (Coke) buzz. Ma came to call us to dinner (Kathleen!Michael!Tommy and Jawn! always in birth order, always the whole litter rather than individually). Tommy and I reluctantly got up and made our way to the kitchen. Kathleen came down from her room.
No Mike. "Michaaaaaaaaaaael!"
Silence. A furrowed brow. "Michaaaaaaaaaaael! Dinner-NOW!!!"
More silence. A chair slides back on the linoleum; Ma stomps towards the TV room.
"Michael, get up and come to dinner." Still nothing. We creep down the hall to witness (in case the police need particulars). Ma's red in the face, but is keeping her distance from Michael.
Goddamnsonofabitchbastard, Michael don't you DARE ignore me..."
At which point Michael whirls around and indignantly says (without guile), "I shook my head, are you deaf????"
It took Ma 10 minutes to stop laughing. This became Ma's "mothers need charming anecdotes to humiliate their children with" tale for Mike.
Part of it is historical. When Mike was in grade 4 (9 or 10 years old) he had appendicitis and missed a lot of school. Then he detached his retina, meaning more surgery and more missed school. And social interaction. Turns out his teachers wanted Mike to repeat grade4, but Ma wouldn't have it--she knew being in the same grade as your younger brother (Tommy--stay tuned) couldn't help Michael. So he was "socially promoted" but being isolated--and already being an introvert--did affect him. So did being excluded from contact sports due to the eye surgery (liability insurance). Mike is the only true jock in the family, and felt the loss of sport profoundly.
After high school, Mike found his way into the construction industry, specifically tile laying. Among his many projects was #7 World Trade Center in NYC--one of the buildings that collapsed on 11-09-01. When he found the tile stuff had a deliterious impact on his health (knees), he retrained in air conditioning and refrigeration maintenance, still his primary job. For Mike, work has been about having an income/livelihood. Not about a career so much.
What does he do with his money? He plays roller and ice hockey. Surfs, including trips to Gran Canaria and Costa Rica. Dives. And apparently he's a web stud, meeting all sorts of women online...though I can't tell you much more, since he travels in different cyberspaces than me. He does spend a fair bit of $$ on his various computers, including his own irc server. When he wants to acquire more stuff (or take a trip) he picks up overtime tile work on evenings and weekends.
Mike and Ma have a particularly interesting relationship. When we were kids, everyone would've predicted I was the kid who'd never leave home. Turns out it was Mike, at least for a number of years. He had tried the roommate thing, found it lacking. So he moved home, and it worked well for everyone. Ma loves Mike's arid sense of humour, and he's always been able to tease her in a way that pleases all. His pet nickname for Ma is GrandBimb, short for Grandma Bimbo. Because being a grandmother has transformed Ma from a by-the-iron-hand mother into a I-just-want-them-to-love-me grandparent. GrandBimb loves it.
Mike also brought the first dog into my parents' home in 15 years. Deeogie (D. O. G.) was a rescue shephard/husky, big as a house and pure puppy. Ma and Da quickly got over their reservations and nurturing the beast in ways never occurred to them to nurture their bloody children. Good thing I'm not resentful, eh? Sadly Deeogie had to be put down (hips), but now Sam(antha) has taken his place.
And Mikes--he moved out about 5 years ago. In typical Mike fashion, my parents seem him about half a dozen times a year, though he lives 3km/.5 miles from them. If they need him, he'll come. But Mike's not much for idle chatter.
With regards to mine and Mike's relationship, several in the family presume we are estranged. Not at all. We're happy to see one another when we do, and we chat for a bit, then the conversation falls away. I know Mike well enough to see this as his way.
I should know, he's my brother.
Here's Mike and me at my parents' 40th a few years back
