Rana Matteson taught my last child her bat mitzvah music in 2009. She felt I was a perfect match for her gruff, worldly brother, Bruce. He spent the first hour talking on the phone with me about tools and wood which was initially what we seemed to have in common: him being a professional carpenter, me being an entrepreneurial guy who built the interiors of his stores. He’d been in Vietnam. During a battle, he saw his friend there blown up next to him. At 18, I was draftee but was rejected because of a missing left jaw due to cancer. We were much the same: politically, our sense of humor, our appreciation of the super-structures of assorted women, and love of great food. Except he was a gourmet cook, and I had been cooking for myself since a child, because my violent mother was too busy or too angry.
Bruce came to live with his sister. We hung out for a thousand hours, saw movies where things blew up, ate at very good fast-food joints, and laughed at the world. He came to love Joyce, my doomed wife and cried when she died. Eve my kids were caught up in his charisma. He moved to New York. When Nancy, my new wife and I decided to pick our wedding day, he was to be the best man. We flew him to live with us for a month. In Spring, 2024, Nancy and I took an 18 day “Old People’s Trip” to see family and friends in Ohio, Virginia, Maryland, Washington, DC., Philadelphia and NYC. Bruce was not only on the trip itinerary; he was the final objective. We stayed with him for five days, took a train every day to New York City and just hung out. Everyone else had us for 3 days.