Obsidian

My wife's brother. I am no fool to think it's nothing special that I have a close relationship with most of my wife's family. The happiness they believe I've brought to their special girl caused them to seemingly adopt me. Again, I'm not so foolish as to push the issue. I don't try stupid things only a blood relative could get away with!

When my wife and I flew out to New York to set up our wedding, years ago, I was holed up with her brother while she with her mother. Her aunt had showed us around town, a good time, until that night. That's when the food poisoning kicked in. No, it wasn't on purpose, even though the family is very Italian. See, I used to like eating the skins on baked potatoes, even in restaurants. If you don't know the risks involved, you really should.

About 2 am, I woke up my future brother-in-law. Indirectly. I was vomiting so violently that my throat was raw, I had pulled a few muscles, and I had passed out twice. Not to mention the terrible sounds woke Joe. Funny, none of the other guys woke up. Their rooms were closer. I think only Joe had a heart caring enough to recognize the sounds of someone in distress.

Joe had to pick me up off the ground and carry me out like he was some kind of hero or something. Now I know why his sister loves him to pieces--wait 'til I tell you some stories! I wasn't emasculated by the experience or anything, I was just happy somebody helped me live through it!

The thing is, just like my good friend Erik (McCoy), Joe grew up thinking he was sub-par. His peers ridiculed his thick Italian accent, his teachers had him convinced that he was "slow", his counselors stigmatized him with ADD, he had a lazy eye, and (of course) his older sister picked on him!!! I know what that's like, man. Only difference is, he didn't relish the change into manhood, when you get muscular enough to kick your sister's ass despite the age difference! Again, he was too bloody nice.

To look at a piece of obsidian, it looks like a chunk of bland, black glass. Compared to other rocks, minerals, stones, and gems you could go as far as calling a raw piece dull. A piece of black glass? We all know the bad associations with the color black. And who would want a chunk of glass when they're looking for stone? It would come as no surprise if any average person were to cast such a rock aside.

But Joe took himself, like obsidian, and chipped away, and polished, and chipped away, and polished some more.

Did you know that nothing can carry a sharper edge than obsidian? Natives used it for arrow heads. In certain procedures, surgeons rely on its incredible sharpness to perform feats a steel edge would find daunting. Polished to a luster, it makes a mockery of the sleekest panther's coat.

Cer Obsidian, today, is one of the kindest, most clever, charismatic GQ-looking men you'll ever run across. I often refer to him as The East Coast Erik. He's got himself a great reputation throughout the city, a list of true friends of high caliber, several college degrees, plenty of oppurtunity, the piercing-yet-comforting gaze of a trusted leader, and a beautiful fiance. Sorry ladies. Maybe you should track down McCoy. Or Window even.

I feel better as a person to be able to count him among my friends.