I know you are, but what am I?

Late Tuesday, HBO announced it will air a “Pee-Wee Herman Special’ in January 2011.  The show will be recorded at the Stephen Sondheim Theatre once the stage show finishes its current run after the first of the year.  How does this relate to me and my current situation?  I was lucky enough to see the show last month, thanks to my incredible sister, Amy. 

As many siblings, we did not always see eye-to-eye and I can imagine it started from the moment I was born and I hijacked her birthday.  May 13,  (year deleted out of respect!) went from “Amy only” to “share with your brother“.  If you are raising teenage girls, were a teenage girl, or just have any common sense, you can understand the challenge of adding the baggage of a hyperactive, attention-starved brother, who holds on to the unique distinction of being born on the exact day as his older sister as if he won the Super Bowl, the lottery and a Dairy Queen Fire Prevention Week Poster Contest at the same time.  It’s not pretty and it’s not helpful for the sister’s parties. 

Years went by and the four-year difference was just enough to bring a much-needed buffer to the relationship.  When she was in High School, I was in Junior High.  By the time I made it into Senior High, she was off to college and just as I was going to reach the level of “Amy’s peer”, she moved to California.  That is where Pee-Wee brokered the peace.  My sister made the generous offer to allow me to stay with her as I moved to Hollywood to pursue a dream, which she believed in more than I ever did.  One of the finest qualities of my sister is that she will have confidence in you despite any potential evidence to the contrary.  She had faith, so I had faith. 

She also had a small apartment, so I had a couch.  And Pee-Wee Herman tapes.  She had the entire Pee-Wee’s Playhouse box set (On VHS-jealous?!) and when I was lonely (daily), homesick (nightly) or doubting (all points in between), I would watch the tapes and lose myself in the mindless fun of Captain Carl, Globey and of course, Randy.  Eventually, I would gain confidence in myself and enjoy a small measure of Southern California success.  Anything I accomplished in that quiet, little town is shared with her and, in part, with a man who has a strange fascination with his bike.

Fast forward almost a decade: I am back on the East Coast, married with a child.  I send her an e-mail about Pee-Wee Herman doing his stage show in L.A.  As usual, she asks “when am I coming out to see the show?”, because with Amy there are always possibilities.  I give the usual excuses of money, work and Will, until the performance’s run comes to an end.  Then, life changes as she accepts a position in New York, Pee-Wee accepts a position on Broadway and I accept a position on an Amtrak train.  As we entered the theatre, everything seemed possible.  She spent way too much money on magnets and ornaments, but I will never question the cost of the coolest jackets this side of Puppetland. 

I proudly wear it and think of everything she has ever done for me or my family.   She takes chances, but is never reckless.  She thinks of others, but never imposes.  She gives me hope, jackets, a giant foil ball and Mr. T cereal. 

2010 was a big year for NYC memories; Meeting Martha Stewart, running in Yankee Stadium and watching Will play in Central Park, but I will always cherish a cold Saturday night when two, otherwise intelligent, mature, professional people giggled like children when a man in an ill-fitting suit made noises with a balloon. 

The secret word is “thanks”.

 

Keeping the faith and the big shoes, just in case.

Garnet