TOM BROKAW, THE BOOMER TURNED SILENT

       The piece on Brokaw's identity crisis is still in the air. Last night I did not sleep and my intention to polish off the first roughly  completed article seems in peril today. It's hard to focus with two hours of sleep fogging the pre-frontal cortex behind my eyeballs. In the following two paragraphs, I introduce my half-brother who was a full on Boomer as was Tom Brokaw...almost.

Tom Brokaw's tight Boomer smile

"Brokaw’s grinning demeanor, for certain, reminds me of my pot smoking, long haired, Boomer half-brother who was born in 1948 when I was eleven. He died at age 36 of accumulating drug complications created by his mixing Black Beauties with all the medications he took to fight the pain and symptoms of the rheumatoid arthritis that was slowly crippling him. At age 19, he underwent a hip replacement. His philosophical answer to all that came his way with pain, illness and “the times” was, “fuck it,” delivered with a tight smile very much like Tom Brokaw’s public smile. My brother, of course, held most of the views of his generation, but he was not likely to be demonstrative. I went on the protest marches. He did not. The fact that he sold nickel bags and a little powdered cocaine for a time is probably why he kept a lower profile than I did. Brokaw, like my brother and also for business reasons, chose not to reveal his personal political views. 

"Our relationship was not as close as it might have been, but my brother told me that a bit of advice I gave him had helped him as his face was being slammed into the desk top by an interrogating police officer. He says I told him, 'No matter what, they can't take your mind from you.' I don't know who 'they' were when I offered the advice, but my brother said he held that in mind as he was being face-smashed."