All of my life I've heard "I'm sorry" after telling someone I grew up in Bakersfield. I typically reply with "have you been there?", which in turn get's a "yeah, I've driven through on the 99." Oh, so you haven't really been there. Growing up, I didn't know that Bakersfield "sucked". All I knew was my dad worked in the oil fields, occasionally inventing amazing pieces of machinery and coaching my brothers and I on how to throw a baseball correctly as well as how to properly handle a blow torch to burn weeds around his shop. It seemed like my mom was either perming one of my two sisters hair, or braiding it and in her spare time, making the best cookies in the county (which later turned into the sole income for the family, BITE ME COOKIES). It seems that we had a pretty typical all American family. My brothers and I are all really close in age, which meant we always had a friend to play with. Although we didn't always get along, no matter what we were brothers and stood by each other at all costs. Now that we're all older, have children of our own and don't live all that close to each other, I still know my brothers are right by me, every step of the way and nothing can come between us. I watched a movie last night that I guess has made me feel a little sentimental. My favorite memories with my brothers: (in no particular order) 

1.Making cities for our Hot Wheels 

2.Playing G.I. JOE 

3.Getting our shoes muddy and jumping in the abandoned pool down the street 

4.Riding and fixing our BMX bikes 

5.Taekwondo with Master Kim the ice cream man 

6.Hauling ass in pops 911 down the 178 

7.Cutting each others hair 

8.Stealing wood to build ramps and making How To videos while impersonating Bob Villa 

9.Losing or breaking pops' tools 



Every warrior hopes a good death will find him