My brother is a genius. My brother is a god. My brother is a bigger nerd than me. And that's why I love him.
At the festival, we have quite a cast of characters volunteering with us, including Gary. Gary's been with the festival for years, hangs out all the time, and generally has nothing better to do. He's in his 40's, unmarried, has this crazy, curly, mane of hair, and a whiny, nasaly, New York accent. He instantly reminded me of this stand-up comic I've seen a million times before, a character actor who's been on every sitcom, in every movie. But, for the life of me, I couldn't place him.
I mentioned this to Keith, who I now regard as my entertainment equal.
"Oh my god. I know! I said the same thing to my girlfriend and she had no idea. God, that's so funny, you noticed too."
The next day being KiKi's birthday, I wracked my brain all night, trying to place this guy. I mean, what a great birthday present. I'd walk in the office the next day with the answer. I'd be hailed as a genius. But I couldn't figure out just which episode of Seinfeld this guy was from, which cheezy bit character he played in a movie. And neither could Keith. Gary would come and go, and each time, we'd go nuts.
"I think he was behind a counter on Seinfeld. A pharmacist?" I'd say.
"Well, that's be the sponge episode. Nope. Not him." Kiki'd say.
"That's the wedding invite episode. I don't think so."
We'd come to an impass. "You know who'll figure it out?" I piped up. "My brother."
"How are you going to describe this guy to your brother? He's never met Gary."
Keith, Keith, Keith. Siblings have a bond. Alex and I have a language. And the most symbiotic frame of reference in existence. It took two sentances trying to explain this guy to Alex. "I know exactly who you're talking about." he said. "Fuck. What's that guy in? I can see him. I can totally hear him."
"We know, we know." Kiki and I waited for weeks. Yesterday, even, Kiki calls. "When's Alex going to figure out Gary's twin?"
"Don't doubt my brother. He's never let me down. He never will. The boy is a genius."
Last night, after chatting with Andy for an eternity, I turned off the lights and tried to sleep. I never sleep, so this was poitless, and I stared at my alarm clock, thinking and thinking about all of my stupid drama, trying to figure out what to do. I'd forgotten about identifying this comic, and was swept up in my personal nonsense. I watched the minutes tick by. At 11:11, the phone rang. Blocked number.
"Beth?" it was my brother. He sounded excited. "Turn on Channel 2! Now!"
"What? Okay. Hold on."
There he was. It's the Bosco episode of Seinfeld, and he's the guy who can't remember Elaine. I jumped on the internet and found him. Fred Stoller, people. Fred Stoller. Look him up. You'll be like, "Oh, yeah. THAT guy!"
I've often said that my brother is my best friend, the best person I know. And it's true. He'd move heaven and earth to make me happy, he's seen me at my absolute worst, he's physically carried me when I literally couldn't walk. He's like Jesus.
But I have never loved him more than I did at 11:11pm last night.