Prologue: 33 Hours of Nothing

420 22 47
                                    

Here's my problem: I never thought anything was weird.

That doesn't sound right. It's more that things made sense to me. I believed that almost anything was possible, and the world record book kinda proved my point. For example, with seven billion people in the world, it makes sense that there's at least ONE person out of those seven billion that's eight feet, three inches tall. Or at least ONE person that's crazy enough to tattoo their whole body black.

So it made sense to me that there were a bunch of people in the world who could fall in love with their own gender.

Which means I obviously didn't think it was strange. Well, I knew it was different, but I didn't really think it was WEIRD. It was just another record for me. Another fact. I was seven years old in 2009, when the Guinness Book of World Records 2010 came out (there's one thing I didn't understand: why the book of 2010 comes out in 2009. If the records happened in 2009, why wouldn't they just call it the 2009 addition?). That year, a same sex couple beat the world record for longest kiss at over thirty-three hours. I didn't know that was possible. My seven-year-old brain didn't know of this, and was manipulated into knowing only a simple equation:

Love = boy + girl

Seeing this record, I was confused. Because like I said, I knew it was different. It stuck out even to me, whose head had been so filled with pointless, random facts that nothing phased me anymore. So I did what I always did when I was confused: I asked my older brother, Chris, what it meant. I popped right off of my orange polka dot sheets and marched down the hallway to his room.

When I walked in, I knew he was sleeping. His head was in his hand and he was breathing loudly, almost snoring. I closed the door as quietly as I could and crept up to his desk, as to not wake him up. Then, I slammed the book right on top of his desk as loud as I could.

Every year, me and Chris would get the new book and look through it. The book was big and hardcover, with a turquoise pattern like rippling waves. On it said GUINNESS WORLD RECORDS 2010 in bold, shiny letters with THE BOOK OF THE DECADE written smaller on the bottom. To my little brain, it looked like the most important book in the world. Even though I'm Jewish, it seemed more important than any sort of holy book could ever be.

The record book landed on his math book that he was pretending to work on. When he heard the bang, he shot up and yelped. I started to laugh my high-pitched little kid laugh that I know I still have traces of in the laugh I use now. He looked confused for a second, blinked a few times, but then smiled when he saw me and the book.

He quickly stood up and pushed his chair away and smiled a huge smile, the smile he rarely showed anyone besides me, and said "I didn't know the new book came out!" And he leaped onto his bed and patted the spot next to him and I brought the book over and we looked through it and laughed and stared in awe at the strange records and we were so happy and lived happily ever after for ever and ever.

Just kidding.

Here's one thing you have to understand. Chris and I were close. Like, really close. Me being the youngest and him being the oldest of five kids, six years apart, we seemed to really understand each other. Back then, he was a solitary, closed up person, and I was happy, but I was quiet. Unless we were together. We were both happier when we were around each other, laughing and talking and just hanging out. I admired his sagacious quality and all-around warmth and care to everything he did. I wonder what he found special about me.

I wonder if that could change.

After looking through all the usual records - tallest person, fattest person, most tattoos, biggest eye-pop, and etcetera - I asked him the question I actually came for. When I asked, I wasn't dramatic, and I wasn't expecting a dramatic answer. I was simply a curious little kid asking a question to my old, wise brother.

Why I'm Not an IdiotWhere stories live. Discover now