On The Curb

(Letter de Leo Reynolds)

• J, my brother - J is 10 years my senior and would sometimes pick me up from grade school in his souped up Chevy Nova. All my little friends had a crush on J with his well groomed afro and loud cars. Yes, I think he’s a fine lookin’ fella. I’ve always thought he looks like Aidan Quinn; of course, he would roll his eyes and bury his head in the nearest sand pit if he heard me say so. E and I think Ethan takes A LOT after J in regards to appearance. E likes to make me uneasy when Ethan’s at the t!t, “So, how does it feel to be breastfeeding your brother?”
  • Check out J’s baby photo. Go ahead and think it. It’s ok. Yes, his brain is protruding from the top of his skull. By the Power of Grayskull! I HAVE THE POWER! Shave off a few feet inches from the upper head and can’t you see Ethan? So, now I’m forced to say great things about J. Kidding. He is an awesome guy.
  • Aha, below is a classic J ‘fro pic. Check.us.out! J is to the right there, looking too cool for school and, on this particular day, his ‘fro seems to have a touch of Princess Leia action on the sides. Awesome. I have no idea who the other folks are but they seem to be equally thinking, “This place blows!” Oooh, aren’t you diggin’ my Mom jeans there? Could I get them pulled up any higher? I think not.

    

• Jigsaw puzzles - (note: i’m having a hard time concentrating with that travesty of a photo hanging above…what is up with my dorky posture? my right arm appears to be a good whole hand longer than the left…i’m obsessing…sorry…oh, if i continued wearing my pants like that, i could measure my bra size by my belt)
  • JIGSAW PUZZLES!! WEEEEEE! I remember bugging the everloving sh!t out of my brothers my brothers P and J working on puzzles and teaching me all about the proper orientation of pieces and how to study the pieces to know what will fit before even trying to wedge them together. (ha, i make it sound like neurosurgery…careful, careful, one wrong move and he’ll be paralyzed for life)
  • During my teenage years, I was K-RAY-Z for jigsaw puzzles…would stay up all night to finish a puzzle…still have probably a good 20 puzzles, each glued to particle board front and back, under my bed at my mom’s house. The tinier the pieces, the better. Anything under 1000 pieces was a total waste of my time. P finally challenged me with an impossible puzzle (i think that was the actual name of the puzzle…impossible) - it was a blue background with various goldfish scattered about - the catch was there were 10 or so extra pieces that didn’t fit in the puzzle. What?! I never completed it.
  • I picked up my jigsaw puzzle obsession again in grad school, but had this insane puzzle eating cat that went batsh!t crazy on a Frida Khalo puzzle I had mounted on the wall. I was away for a week at a neuroscience convention (exciting, i know…let me tell you, neuroscientists know how to party, though…all those days pent-up in a lab…they let their freak flags fly at the conventions…just so’s you know), but I had a friend visiting my apartment each day to feed and play with the cat. Toward the end of the week, she said she went in and thought the place had been robbed…plants were kicked over, dirt everywhere, and my precious Frida Khalo puzzle was destroyed. That was the last puzzle I worked. Also, the last cat I had.