A Brother’s Love Never Dies

Even if you shoot it, but I’m getting ahead of myself.  Yesterday I was having a discussion on facebook with a friend who I haven’t seen in years.  The topic was Moon Sand and how it was evil product.  I said that Floam was way worse, but that’s neither here or there.  The result was I was reminded of a funny tragedy that befell him.

He and his brother were camping one weekend with a couple of friends.  For whatever reason they were armed with .22’s (yeah, you can see where this is going).  During the night they heard some sound that apparently scared them because his older brother grabbed the gun.  When he heard something running in the woods to his side, he turned and shot.  The bullet hit my friend square in the chest.  Now remember I said it was funny.  So they’re rushing Barry (my friend) to the hospital and Chuck (his brother) was in the backseat with him, no doubt freaking out.  Barry being the guy he is started holding his breath and pretending to be dead, thus freaking his brother out.  Granted it was only a .22 and there are pretty much only two places you could hit someone with a .22 and kill them: the brain or the heart.  This bullet, in fact, lodged itself a mere inch from his heart, where it remains to this day.

I’m not sure why I felt like sharing this story, but I’ve always found it be very defining of Barry.  Rather than being pissed that he had just been shot, he was joking around, in his own sadistic way.

Jahm