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Woebeit my brother and I was estranged for almost 30 years, I’ll be eternally grateful that the good Lord made me Sam Johnson, Jr.’s little Bud. Sentimentality aside, the only public display of emotion I’ve ever been guilty of was when I jumped up and hugged Vickie Easy when she finished singing “Wind Beneath My Wings,” at my behest during the celebration of my big brother’s strange and mostly reclusive life at Ross Mortuary on June 10, 1998. My youngest son, who just happens to be a funeral director at Ross Mortuary as we speak, often reminds that my startling display of sentiment not only scared Vickie, but gave people cause to pause and ponder whether, or not, my old African warrior persona was real, or imagined.
Truth is, my stoic brother would’ve been turned off by my emotional display, insofar as he abhorred any hint of human weakness. Even so, I have no reason to doubt that “Junior” loved his little brother dearly. Hey, the boy would beg my momma to let him take my annual dose of castor oil, so that I wouldn’t get beat for refusing to open my mouth and take my medicine like a man. Now, that’s sho’ nuff brotherly love. I often mention that my big brother was a genius, but in an era when people routinely exaggerate words lose their true meaning, ergo, I’m reasonably sure that genius translates to being very smart. Nevertheless, I’m talking for real genius, as in Einstein level intellect. 1940s-‘50’s Fifth Ward was full of brilliant kids and borderline geniuses, but they all agree that Sam Jr. was the smartest person they’ve ever known to this day. In fact, he was smart enough to teach me to never try to make shallow minded people grasp the concept of true genius. In essence, he often told me that only very smart people are smart enough to know when somebody else, besides themselves, is the smartest. But having a genius big brother was simply icing on the cake for me. Most of my peers were also blessed to have very smart big brothers. Male chauvinist pig notwithstanding, I’m sure the same applies to girls with big sisters. But, thankfully I’m not qualified to speak to that. However, I consider myself an expert on big brothers, who were truly valuable to our society before parents starting allowing childless intellectuals-- like Dr. Benjamin Spock-- tell them how to parent. Especially, when brothers and sisters start reading the same books that lazy Anglo women (that depended on their “Colored girls” to raise their heathen offspring) read. Opps, thanks for queuing up The Twilight Zone theme, because I really was drifting into The Outer Limits of racism this time for sure. Truth is, I was simply trying to validate the fact that the myriad of problems that society have with kids today corresponds with the time frame when the Middle School concept took hold in public education. It’s difficult to believe that truly educated educators actually was stupid enough to conclude that it was harmful for 13-15-year-olds to share a campus with their 16-18-year-old brothers, sisters and/or neighbors. Especially, when poor brothers shared the same rack. For real, that idea is just about as dumb as thinking that a 5-year-old boy needs a father figure in the house when he has a big brother. Hell it’s momma who needed a man. If you don’t feel me, let’s break it down to Fifth Ward Ebonics. How in the hell can a man teach a boy how to be a teenager, or even a younger man in 2005 America? Yeah, yeah, I hear brothers and sisters whining about boys being raised sans daddies in the house to be men. Hey, dumb-dumb, boys emulating messed up Black men is why they’re so screwed up now. Fool, it takes together teenagers to teach pre-teens to be together teenagers. Translation: parents have created a vacuum in their family structure by taking the role of big brothers and sisters, who once was crucial to the development of their younger siblings. Aw hell, you don’t feel me. Thus, since space is running out, I’m simply going to inaugurate a pre-Father’s Day salute to my big brother, who taught me more about being a teenager first and a young man second than any father could possibly have. Thank God daddy got out of his boy’s way. Think about it my brothers and sisters. And if you have boys, or girls, please get a life and get out of their way. Square business, teaching little brothers and sisters to mature into big brothers and sisters is big brothers and sister’s job. I wonder if anybody knows where I’m coming from?