My brother had his birthday yesterday. My brother was cool. Not cool in a he-was-popular-which-means-he-was-cool. Rather, he was cool, as-in-he-was-the-first-person-in-his-high-school-to-wear-tevas-even-though-idiots-called-them-Jesus-shoes. He wore Vuarnet sunglasses. In short, he was his own man—a rare thing in high school. I looked up to my brother, much more than he probably realizes. I tried to make sure my hair wave matched his and thought, if my big brother thinks it's okay, than it probably is okay. So on this day I want to wish him a happy, belated birthday.