Wearing My Jordans

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Tim Stiles

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It's been a while right, brother?
Approaching 40, leaving our 30's behind
Born in August, 1979 when bell-bottoms were retired
And everyone tuned into Saturday Night Live!
While the Young were getting Restless on Sesame Street
And The Brady Bunch spent 60 Minutes counting the Days Of Our Lives
Him and I slept adjacent, laid there in waiting
Separated by hospital blinds
Little did we know a process had been initiated
Halted, then resolved with adoption papers
One problem, this involvement Dad and Mom engaged in
Only implied one son, not a package of displaced twins
While in that lawyer's office reality weighed in
I like to think that thankfulness overjoyed them
I like to think that neither blinked the moment that lawyer grinned
And said, it's not just one kid, there's actually two of them
Fortunately Barbara reacted with reciprocity
Knowing two boys would be great since her and Jim could now afford it
The new job she landed in banking was amazing
All she'd ever wanted was a family, previously thwarted
By factors such as sterility and lack of income
Inability to give birth plagued her everything and then some
Now came an opportunity for not only one, but twins, umm
Just got to convince Jim. Easily done
Jim signed the papers, solidifying custody
Two weeks later we were shipped to Monterey from Muncie
Two Midwest born bastards were undeniably lucky
Accepted and adopted to the west coast of the country
They expected One but then there were Two
One fair-skinned pale in comparison to Two
These Two share heritage, plus eyes of blue
It's quite a delight knowing there are Two sides to you
Life meant for One yet delivered One more than
One left, Two right-brained, out of sorts twins
To this day we take steps with importance
Him rocking my Tims. Me wearing his Jordans
During adolescence, computers were my pastime
I DOS commanded bulletin boards just to pass time
A game junky too but never a Sega "Genesist"
Before N64, I can barely remember which
Consoles I owned, yet what I do remember is
Jordan being my Super Nintendo arch nemesis
When it came to Street Fighter Two, he'd pick Blanka
And I'd Chun Li the shit out of his shins, making things awkward
Little did he know I'd already studied his moves
He used to get so pissed, throwing the controller across the room
It made sense though, he was never bred for technology
To this day he still calls me instead of Googling, ha!
Honestly, I shouldn't give him so much grief
While I was nerding out, he was turning out art you wouldn't believe
Whether pencil to paper, acrylic and hand-brushed
Charcoal and chalk, or watercolor to canvas
Jordan as a young man didn't have visions of grandeur
He materialized decisions with precision and stamina
From cartoon-inspired, to realistic landscapes
He emptied cans of paint, presenting pieces hand-made
Always been ahead of his time with a history you can't trace
Talent worth far more than anyone can pay
Furthermore, he holds the torch to our campaign
We'll always remain One, traversing Two different pathways
They expected One but then there were Two
One fair-skinned pale in comparison to Two
These Two share heritage, plus eyes of blue
It's quite a delight knowing there are Two sides to you
Life meant for One yet delivered One more than
One left, Two right-brained, out of sorts twins
To this day we take steps with importance
Him rocking my Tims. Me wearing his Jordans

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