I had Venus

I'm on the couch getting ready to watch the Men's Championship at Wimbledon. The fact that there is a rain delay at an outdoor sporting event --in London-- should come as no surprise to tennis fans and neither was the performance of now 5-time Wimbledon champ Venus Williams.


I have the utmost respect for Serena's power game and her sexy bod (don't judge me) but being that Venus had lost five of their previous six championship meetings, I thought it was big sister's time to shine. In the earlier matches it appeared that Venus was trying to unforced-error herself to death, and deathed she did!

Venus' uncharacteristically poor performance led sports journalists to speculate (as if they needed additional encouragement) that Venus, once on center court, simply could not allow herself to dash the hopes of her sibling and best friend. That is a piece of pop-birth order psychology that I am not going anywhere near but I will endorse the idea that there was some sort of mental block preventing both sisters from playing there best against one another. Tennis fans and commentators were unified in their dismay at the sloppy and distinctly uncompetitive performances; no wonder their father when asked why he was leaving England the day before the final match said he "couldn't bear to watch". Well, I did watch the match and someone should tell that guy he missed a classic. I'll spare you the play-by-play but suffice it to say that in world of Williams sister tennis... The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen.

the psychic bond of brotherhood

Today I met my brother. He isn't a newborn. I'm not speaking euphemistically about him revealing his true nature to me. I literally saw my 21 year old brother (Myles) and his 2 year old son (Jayceon) in the flesh for the first time today. I had been hovering between excitement and anxiety but what I feel now is relief.

I've dreamed about this meeting since I was 8 and as dreaming is the highest form of planning-- I had developed exactly two possible scenarios: 1. I arrive at his front door unannounced; he recognizes me through the psychic bond of brotherhood that had, until that moment, laid dormant in both of us; over the course of a single weekend or afternoon we catch each other up on all that has happened to us in the years of our separation; he moves in across the street so that we can go on to be the inseparable kindred spirits that we were always meant to be. (See Mario and Luigi) OR 2. I arrive at his front door unannounced; he recognizes me through a psychic bond of brotherhood that had, until that moment, laid dormant in both of us; filled with the rage and bitterness caused by my family's humiliating refusal to acknowledge his existence and rightful place in my family, he lashes out at me with verbal and even some physical abuse just before he tells me that his life has been miserable and he wishes that he had never been born; he slams the door in my face; as I return to my car with sunken shoulders, bowed head, and tear-filled eyes -he shouts- if you ever come back here... I'll kill you!

Thankfully, God laughs at our (dreams)plans. The way it really went down was completely different than I imagined. I did not come alone or unannounced, our father planned and initiated the trip up to Gainesville. He didn't scorn or adore us rather he showed us respect as men and family. Ultimately, what Myles offered my father and I was far more valuable than the pathetic self-loathing or blind devotion I had fantasized about. Myles didn't simply forgive my father or me, he gave us a chance to absolve ourselves of 21 neglectful years with the simple and natural act of loving him now. Actually, what I feel more than relief is hope. I find hope in the notion that my brother and I seem to be willing and able to get on with the painstaking task of building our own bond of brotherhood.