He is a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. He has been known to remodel train stations on his lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. He translates ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, he writes award-winning operas, He manages time efficiently. Occasionally, He treads water for three days in a row.

He woos women with his sensuous and godlike trombone playing, He can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and can cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. He is an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, he once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. He play bluegrass cello, he was scouted by the Mets, he is the subject of numerous documentaries. When he’s bored, he builds large suspension bridges his yard. He enjoys urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, he repairs electrical appliances free of charge.

He is an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over his original line of corduroy evening wear. He doesn’t perspire. Ever. He is a private citizen, yet receives fan mail. He has been caller number nine and has won the weekend passes. Last summer he toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. He bats .400. His deft floral arrangements have earned him fame in international botany circles. Children trust him.

He can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. He once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. He knows the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. He has performed several covert operations for the CIA. He sleeps once a week; when he does sleep, he sleeps in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, he successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to him. He balances, weaves, dodges, frolics, and his bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, he participates in full-contact origami. Years ago he discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. He have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. He breeds prizewinning clams. He has won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. He has played Hamlet, he have performed open-heart surgery, and he spoke with Elvis.

He is my brother.
[audio:|titles= A Real Hero (feat. Electric Youth)]

9 Responses to “Garrett”

  1. kimbo says:

    So good Nick!!!! I just want to keep staring at these.

  2. Rog says:

    he’s your older brother

  3. Andria Lindquist says:

    Best write up ever. And because I’m gullible, I’m sure 90% of that is all true. Killer pics. That vertical w te tree is gorg. Well done.

  4. jsa says:

    lucky brother.

  5. Igor Demba says:

    The Radford power is hereditary.

  6. rich says:

    Hah – amazing! I freaking love it.

  7. matt sloan says:

    poor kid looks like you. 😉 nice portraits. 🙂

  8. Jillian says:

    oh my goodness can we say ken radford minnie me?

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