Today my baby brother turns 31. That’s just weird.
I can clearly remember standing in the living room of our house at 12125 Rennick Lane in Silver Spring, Maryland, on the night of December 11, 1980. We’d just moved to Maryland from Arkansas a couple months earlier. It was three days after John Lennon had been killed. Jimmy Carter was still the President, but Ronald Reagan was the President-elect. And I was in kindergarten at Jackson Road Elementary School.
From the bottom of the steps, I heard my dad tucking Dylan in and saying in his Arkansas drawl: “Now Dylan, this is your last night being three.”
When that same amount of time passes again, Dylan will be turning 58. He could easily have teenage grandchildren.
When people talk about how quickly life passes, they ain’t lyin’. Here’s a picture of Dylan as he exits age 30:

Sike. That’s our uncle Hugh. Here’s Dylan for real, at his induction into the National Baseball Hall of Fame:

Happy birthday, baby bro! 31… unbelievable….
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