Jordan is my brother-in-law; the middle sibling to my wife, who is the youngest in a family of three. From an early age this, of course, left him exposed to middle-child-syndrome; the idea that the oldest is the first born, or favorite, the youngest is the baby and the middle child is just in a strange limbo, always getting hand-me-downs and hand-me-ups. These middle children often live their entire adolescence in a gray area and, more often than not, parent’s actually just legitimately forget that this strange third child exists at all. Sometimes they forget to set a plate for them at the dinner table or buy them Christmas gifts or enroll them in school.
This is science folks. You can read about it on wikipedia.
However, this poor little boy’s torment didn’t stop with middle-child-syndrome. He was also born with a full head of flaming red hair, making him a minority within a minority, like albino Asians. With skin as white as snow (or a ghost) and hair brighter than the sun, Jordan came into this world pronouncing, “I. Am. Here.” He pointed to humanity with one stumpy, thick knuckled finger and said, “I may look like a snowman that somebody set a flame but I CAN NOT be stopped! I WILL NOT suffer the effects of middle-child-syndrome. Listen to me, World! I may look like a viking from time past with my stocky build and love for raw meat but I SHALL NOT be forgotten! My name is Jordan Lee (name has been changed to protect the innocent) and you will pay attention to me!”
And we all have.
Jordan is one of these guys that walks into a room and commands your attention. From the outside he looks rough and tumble. He’s a man’s-man; a hunter at heart with no interest in frilly things. He orders his steaks red and his beers dark. He owns an arsenal of weaponry and his interests include gun-hunting, bow-hunting, knife-hunting and fist-hunting. You know Brad Pitt in “A River Runs Through It”? Remember the end of the movie where he fights a bear? That’s Jordan.
About four years ago he went out into the world of the civilized man, club in hand, found Kate and dragged her back to his cave, kicking and screaming.
They’ve been together ever since.
Kate is my soon-to-be sister-in-law. She’s a small glass of water with a heart made of piss and vinegar; a tiny little girl from the outside with dark strands of hair she has a personality that’s as spunky as….well…..something really spunky. The two of them live in Montana (“Man-tana” as the testosterone heavy locals call it) where Katie is finishing her nursing degree. We see her at Thanksgiving and Christmas and she relates to us regal stories of men visiting the emergency room with different household items trapped inside their rectums; remote controls, light bulbs, cell phones and dildos. She tells us that their reason is always the same; they were walking around after a shower and sat down on the offending object by accident. Poor fellows.
SO, Jordan and Katie are getting married next summer in South Dakota and it really is a match made in Man-tana. Red loves to hunt, and Katie hates it. Katie loves pigs and Red likes to first kill and then eat them. Katie is polite and genial while Red is a portable Mexican fiesta. Katie heals all wounds and Red wounds and then kills all things.
These two are perfect. Their puzzle pieces just fit. And we couldn’t be happier for them.