Let me introduce you to my brother, Doctor Dylan, PhD.



Once, when Dylan was a toddler, maybe about 18 months, he fell out of a shopping cart in Albertson's. Remember when shopping carts used to open like the bed of a pickup truck? Well, Dylan was sitting in the cart and just plum rolled out and smacked his head on the floor in the dairy section. He wiggled a bit when he hit and Dana started screaming, "Help! Someone Help! My baby is having a seizure!" until someone finally came to help.

Dylan was fine, obviously, but we still had to fill out some paperwork in the back room, probably saying we wouldn't sue Alberton's or anything. They offered us a soda pop from the vending machine but we didn't drink soda.



Another time, when Dylan was about eight or nine, he did something to piss Dana off and she whacked him on the head with a Tupperware lid. Of course, Dana hates this story but it has always been one of my favorites. I remember being quite shocked by her speed as Dylan tried to scramble away through the seats of our beat up old Suburban. No one can even remember what she was mad about and I am pretty sure they still love each other.



When Dylan was a senior in high school, he was skiing at night and crashed and tumbled down the mountain for a bit. This was before helmet wearing was common practice while skiing. He came home with a mushy spot on the back of head that was about the width of two finger tips. It was really gross. The mushy spot eventually healed and his skull appears to be unharmed. Even so, he skis with a helmet today.



He looks like me, uh? Lucky kid.

So I guess there is something to be said for sustaining head injuries as a child. I wonder if I had injured my head as a child whether I would have grown up to be a geophysicist, too? Probably not. I've never been much of a studier.