Bennie Hanna, MSG and Me.

Today is August 5th. It is my only brother's 21st birthday.

Throughout my very blessed life, I've had the pleasure of meeting many a character. I've had lunch with Billionaires and homeless bards. I've played been beaten in chess by mensa club members and old men in a park. I've conversed with Poet laureates and Grammy Award winners.

However, I don't believe I've ever met someone so completely interesting as my younger brother, Benjamin Warren Golemo.

I'm not sure how to describe my brother, Ben. I guess I could start of with the phrase: "he is loved." My brother is loved by everyone who has ever known him. For the life of me, I cannot think of one person who holds him in anything but the highest esteem.

He's the protector of all. He was the only one of the Golemo kids who ever required my parents to "meet with the principal". And the reason being because he pushed down a kid that had pushed down another, smaller, kid. My brother is not, nor has he ever been, a violent person. But he was imbued with an innate sense of justice, and has never failed to act upon it. But somehow, even the kids he was pushing down always got up with a deeper respect of my brother than they had had before.

It's so hard to stay angry at Bennie. He just has this "thanks for noticing me" type of personality. We used to call him "Eeyore" because he has this kind of trudging way about him. I remember one time when we were young, our parents had saw fit to take us on a rare trip to Dairy Queen. We were all ordering our sundaes, star-kisses, and Mister Misty's (cherry, for me) and my brother reached up and tugged on my Pappacho's shirt. My father looked down at him and said "Yes, Ben?"

"Well" he mumbled while looking down and kicking at his foot. "I don't suppose you'll get me a Chocolate cone, will ya?" -his frown already in place.

I need to point out here, that my brother is not a sarcastic person. I think that in the warfare of the verbal minefield that is our home, Ben has chosen to sign his own non-proliferation pact. He is simply too sincere to go that route. Besides, who wants to call an arial strike of cynicism when you can bludgeon them with wit?

My brother is someone whom doesn't' find it strange in the least to spend an hour or two in the corner of a room playing with his Incredible Hulk figurines. (Remember, he's 21.)

My dad used to have to bribe my brother to comb his hair. We used to have to bribe Bennie-hanna to do a lot of things. Every Sunday morning, my Dad would make my brother present himself to see what he intended to wear to Mass. And every Sunday, nearly without fail, my brother would appear on the landing wearing torn jeans and three t-shirts, layered, with his hair uncombed and invariably, his shoes untied.

Such has always been Ben's way. We would have to drag him everywhere because he never wanted to do anything. Just sit and "relax." Once, we went to Six Flags. My brother cried because he didn't want to go. Then he saw the double-decker carousel. He wanted to go. But then he cried because he didn't want to wait in line. Then he cried when he got on because he wanted it to start. Then he cried because he didn't want it to stop. He cried all day and had a better time than anyone else.

He's a hard worker. Probably the hardest worker of all the Golemos. But I will never forget him complaining to my mom when we had to clean the house before Dad got home, "Mom, we always have to clean. How come we never get to relax?"

He was also the one that coined the phrase "Screech Owl" in describing my half-Sicilian father who had a tendency to get a little worked up from time to time when one of us made a particularly nasty mess and forgot to clean it up. (We always blamed it on Beth, the baby.)

There are more "Ben" stories in our family than anyone else. And my family loves to regale others with them. Last summer when I brought my friend Kelli home, we had just missed Ben after he had left for his first year at West Point. I was pretty disappointed. So in an effort to make me feel better and let Kelli know exactly what she was missing, we all told Ben stories, did Ben impressions, and talked about all things Ben for the better part of 2 hours. I would say I was sorry for Kelli if I didn't know her side was just as sore as mine.

Bennie is about to start his second year at West Point where, I'm proud to admit, he is kicking arse. When we first found out about my brother's ambitions to attend that institution, we were a little shocked. Because Ben, well, lets just say Bennie has a style "all of his own." He's kind of punk, kind of grunge, kind of slob, and all "I don't give a crap what anyone thinks." He's such a free-spirit. So you can understand our surprise because you know how the Military loves individuality.

But I don't worry about Benjamin at West Point. He has a magnetic personality I'd kill to have. People are drawn to him. His friends are loyal in a way that inspires others to pledge their allegiance as well. Ben is the kind of person people want to follow, because they can be sure he will place their needs in front of his own and he'll be bewildered when someone thanks him for it.

I've been touched by many people who've blessed my life in real ways. People like Myles, who challenges me to be a better writer. Someone like Andrew Telep who has taught me to put my feet in someone else's shoes. Mary Gajewski, who has given me hope for women. My roommate Dave who has taught me there's real joy to be grabbed from every part of life, and its up to me to grab and squeeze. Greg and Jason; regulators of my ego, who've taught me friendship can endure any change or distance. My parents, who, more than anyone I've ever known, have set such an amazing example of Love and what it is to do so unconditionally. But to be honest, I'm not so sure that there's anyone who has taught me more about the kind of person I want to be, the things I want to be and the impact I want to have upon people, than my brother. My friends, if you hold me in any esteem at all, five minutes spent with my brother would show him to be twice the person I could hope to be.

Bennie, you're my hero, and the greatest gift I've ever been given. I'm forever in your debt for the impact you've had upon my life. Happy Birthday.

I love you.