A featurette: by Brett

My brother Brett sent me this story he'd written, as part of a sort of tribute to my sister Stephanie for her birthday. It's too good, and I deemed it worthy for the blog.

First, a list of characters:

Brett: my brother; author
Jeremy, aka "Germ" (pronounced with a hard "G"): another brother
Steph: my sister
Mary Greene: a lady who lives across the street from my parents

Enjoy!

As I grew up, I simultaneously and perhaps even more so, started growing out. Many kids go through the prepubescent chubby phase before the spurt. Some disappear, others accept. I chose to embrace it. But to announce it verbally was not enough. I needed more. I need style, a new style, a new hair style. Comb it differently? Not good enough. Spike it, grow it, trim it? No Way. I needed something really sweet, you know like a PERM! Yeah, a perm, what every chubby kid needs!

Now, Germ got his done by Mary Greene. Remembering how Steph took control on the night of Halloween, (my previous story told of how Steph helped me with my Halloween costume one year when mom was gone. We used vaseline in my hair to get it to look like draculas--it ruled! We later used bleach a few times to get it out.) I decided to stay with the big guns. It didn't really matter that Steph had no formal hair training. I had a gut feeling. Steph would be the one to give me my ever-so-sweet Perm. Ah, Perm, you incandescent beacon of confidence and style. Standing the test of time, the musique concréte of hair, desired by all, yet tamed by few. Germ's hair was fine, nay, grand. My hair, however, was pure finesse. Nothing could match my king of the jungle, lion like mane. The way the sunlight lifted from my oleaginous man-tiara emphasizing the not-so subtle ostentation of which the curls, my curls, curled in different direction.

Again, my gut feeling was precise. Steph was the one, penultimate to none. My hair was like that of the gods; even Zeus would prostrate himself before my unctuous crown. In short, my hair was sweet. Nothing, no nothing, says, "I'm chubby and proud of it," like a perm……with curls in different directions. Although I elected to adorn, once again, the style of the select, no other perm came remotely close to the locks of yester year.

(Brett (left) & Jeremy with their perms. Jon, another brother, with no perm but makes up for it with his sweet goggles, i mean glasses.)