Too good to keep to myself
Saturday, September 11th, 2010I bring you this special weekend blog scrap just to announce that my brother used to think the phrase was “throw kosh into the wind.”
Tremendous!
Brother
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My brother, the inane genius
Wednesday, July 1st, 2009Jeremy: “I have some great ideas for pictures on the cruise.”
Me: “Awesome!”
Jeremy: “I know. There’s one shot that I’m positive I’ll have to get.”
Me: “Cool – what is it?”
Jeremy: “Well, it will be you, in some sort of dress. And we’ll go to the very front of the boat. And you’ll climb up on the railing, and spread out your arms. And we’ll find a deckhand to come up behind you and whisper into your ear…”
Trust me: if we make this happen, you will be seeing it.
Broseph
Thursday, November 20th, 2008Internet, have you met my brother Jeremy?
One half of The Parsons Photographers (along with his super-fly wife Ashley – or Ashlug, as we call her, since initiation into the Parsons family includes receiving a name that sounds like a flesh wound), dad to the Sparking Wonder Boys Micah and Tyler, recent half-marathon runner, awesome musician, lover of “Arrested Development” and “Flight of the Conchords,” creator of Photoshop majesties like this:
He is unflappable – so laid back, he’s horizontal – and tirelessly committed to his wife and boys. He’s also a kickass photographer. Jeremy is currently traveling the Southwest in a “party like a rock star” tour bus along with 11 other professional photographers as a part of the Mammoth Men. You should check out their antics, and their amazing photos. Here are Jeremy’s images from the trip. I’m blown away. And lucky to have such an amazing big brother.
Here’s the thing (okay, “the things”) about Jeremy. He’s 2 ½ years older than me, and when we were little, living in San Jose, CA, we shared a room. He had the top bunk, I had the bottom. One night, he tied a string around his ankle and dangled the end down to my bed; “If you get scared in the middle of the night, just pull on this and I’ll wake up,” he said.
He was always so much nicer than me. I recall biting him one time. And shoving my sister Becca up against a wall. And locking baby Sarah in the minivan in the summer heat. I was slammed doors, screamed threats, dramatic tears, rolled eyes. He was kind words, genuine laughs, rides to school even when I made him 20 minutes late, shuffling out to the truck in a blaze of hormonal glory. As we’ve grown into adults (at least – I have), he has been the phone call when my heart has been smashed by another boy, or the YouTube video link when I need to laugh, or the guitar player when I couldn’t do it myself.
