Laughing my email off.

Keith is designing a bunch of "gig posters" for my brother.   They've been emailing back and forth about it for the past few days.

The bro just sent this email (I think it's mostly in jest):

"2 Choices up to you.  I'm sending 2 pics, one is high res, one is dark, but you can lighten it up if you want to ... make me look hoTT and confidenTTT.  Two more options, first one is similar to the other one, different fierceness.  I want maxximum fierceness. I think I like 33 the best for headshot. Fierce. Passion." 

To which Keith replied:

"Thanks for the input, Tyra"

God.  We hope it was in jest. 

Pop Tarte

As it is one of my 2009 resolutions, I've been keeping better track of my brother.  It would seem that track is perhaps the wrong word.  It sounds like I'm stalking him, but you don't know my brother.  

Kyle bounces all over the place.  He's a musician by trade in a band that's particularly popular amongst the teen set in Malaysia.  Yes, he's a Malaysian tween's dreamboat, straight up Tigerbeat style.  

Now, they're a US band and Kyle just joined them a little over a year ago, when the original lead singer (who is 5'4") dropped himself from the group to become a "serious actor" (please note on his website that there has been no news since February of Last year.)  So, in an attempt to keep their hold on all of that Malaysian money, the record company decided to do a search for a new lead singer.  And that's how Kyle (who is 6'3") got to be a Pop Tarte.

It's been an interesting year for him.  Partially because in the US, they have no following.  They had one song that did well here, but only because it was the theme song to "Laguna Beach" (MTV's "reality" television show about a group of high school kids with too much money and not enough brains).   

Regardless, when people ask what my brother does, I have a hard time explaining.  I generally just say he's in a band or in the entertainment business.  They aren't fancy or popular here, so I try to avoid the, "Oh really?! What band is he in?!" because then I have to respond and the people I meet almost indubitably respond with a... "huh. Never heard of it."

Yeah, I know.  You're not Thai! 

Anyway, they're in the midst of finding a new manager, so Kyle's been particularly hard to keep track of. Last month, in one week he managed to be in China, Japan, Bali, Boston, Marietta, St. Louis, and Omaha.   Now, certainly, this seems doable.  Unless, of course, you've been on  plane to China.  Let's just log the amount of hours in a 7 day, 7 night span: 24hours by 7 days = 168 hours.

Now.  Flights involving Logan International Airport and Beijing require about 20 hours.  

That takes us to 40 hours logged in a plane, 128 hours left in the week.  

Flying from Beijing to Tokyo

5 hours, total comes up to 50, 118 hours.  

Beijing to Bali and back: 

5 hours each way: 60, 108 hours

Then of course there's flying from Boston to Atlanta against the jetstream 

3.5 hours:  Total's at 67, 101 hours remaining in the week.

Atlanta to Omaha: 

4 hours: 71, 91 hours left

Omaha to St. Louis: 

2 hours: 93, 88 hours left

St. Louis back to Boston...

4 hours: 97 hours logged in a plane, 84 hours left in the week.

84 hours.   That is an equivalent to 3.5 days spent on the ground.  That's approximately 8 hours, considering delays and traffic that you have to get into a city, get what you need to get done finished, and then get back on a plane.  No nonsense, none at all.  Not to MENTION that this also assumes that he only slept while he was on the plane and didn't ever land somewhere in the middle of the night. There's no time for sleeping if you're not airborne!  I think they must have done 90% of their meetings in Airport "conference rooms" (read: Bathrooms.  Po-tay-to, Po-tah-to)

Anyway, I've been talking to him a lot recently via the devil that is my friend, Facebook.  Mostly about things that don't matter at all.  It's nice.  It's good to get that report going again. We've always understood each other, though we're in no way the same.

For example: I went to a state school for 4 years, came out with 3 degrees, and now I'm not using ANY of them.  He went to a prestigious, private music school for three years, didn't quite finish, but is milking it for all it's worth.  I got married, he juggles girls (remind me to tell you about his encounter with "the spanish armada" some day).  He likes to wear "rock" jeans (denim leggings as far as I can tell) and a suit-vest with nothing else against his exposed chest while riding his bike through the streets of Boston, whereas I wear real people clothes.  I could go on for days.  

But in the end, we're blood.  I know this because we both have Alpaca winter coats with Llamas on them that our dad bought for us after a ski trip to Arizona.  You'll know this because despite the 2 year age difference, we appear to be twins.  Oh, and we're both dream boats, duh.