Dirty Curt

I have a little brother named Curt. His nickname was always Dirty Curt (shared by some baseball player Bavaqua (sp)???) Everyone in our family played baseball or softball growing up. Mom and Dad played slow-pitch womens, mens, and coed. My older brother played little league and I played softball. When Curt was a baby, we took him along, plopped him in the dugout and he was happy as a clam for 2 hours by himself. By the end of the night he was covered with dust. He was so good natured and such a pretty baby. But when he got to the age where he could talk, I began beating the crap out of him. Why, you ask? Because I'm five years older and that's what big sisters do.

This is a picture around 1984. Wasn't he cute? My dad was a pipeline inspector and this picture was taken on a jobsite somewhere in my dad's work truck. The majority of our vacations as kids were taken wherever dad was working at the time. We'd stay in his hotel and swim during the day. Then when dad got off work, he'd come and get us and go show us really big trenches in the ground where huge natural gas pipes would be laid. As you can see by the look on Curt's face, we LOVED it!

Curt always had the looks in the family. Which is unfortunate, considering I'm the only girl, but I came to accept it. Besides, I always had more track metals. Notice the Golden Harvest fridge in the background. You can't see it, but right around the corner in the kitchen was our rotary phone with a 150 foot cord.

Speaking of looks................so everyone goes through one of those stages. Curt never had glasses or acne, but he did go through the dreaded "I haven't grown into my giant front teeth" stage.

And here's Curt now, all grown up, with his beautiful bride, Bobby. They are perfect for each other. He's become quite a man that I am so proud to call, my brother. I love ya, dude!

Hey, remember my biggest brother, Chad? Yeah, we'll get to him later.