I had breakfast at Cracker Barrel last Saturday with my nephew, Joe Porterfield. It was his forty-sixth birthday. Amazing how time gets away from us. I remember freaking out when my sister went into labor with him that day. I was still in junior high, and I was getting my stuff ready like I was going to the hospital myself. My mom asked, “Where are you going?” and I realized that they were going without me. It wasn’t about me. Wow. Looking back today, I see that it was on the day Joey was born that I actually stopped being “the baby”. Thanks a lot, Joe. Sure, my mom still calls me “her baby” even today, and I’m sixty. I’ll never stop being “her baby”. But that was the last day I was actually “the baby” of the family. I had been de-throned.
Joe’s a pretty cool kid. Being the first grandchild, he got quite a lot of attention. His solo act didn’t last very long, as all four of us siblings started cranking out a grand total of twelve grandchildren for our parents during the eighties. Joe had just enough of a head start to embed himself deep into Nanny and Pop’s (and all our) hearts. His sense of humor and quick mind were probably influenced by his surrounding aunt and uncles just enough to warp him towards the dark side, but he went willingly.
He grew up with his two sisters, Megan and Kerry, kept iguanas as pets, and loves wrestling, music concerts,horror movies (don’t ask him his favorite. It involves a human centipede-that’s all I’ll say), and Renaissance Fairs. He has a talent for telling stories that’ll crack you up and an appetite for exotic, and sometimes downright weird, foods. He’ll eat calamari from a gas station, and I consider that just asking for trouble.
He’s an ardent Dungeons and Dragon’s aficionado and plays twice a week even now. Ask him who the “Hezrou” are and I bet he can tell you they are “massive, toad-like demons that reek of decay and swamp gas. They are hardy, resistant to magic and possess a “stench” aura that poisons nearby creatures.” Kinda like Joe, after he’s eaten calamari from that gas station. Ugh.
Joe loves to go to rock concerts and “other” venues like Puddles Pity Party. That guy is a pierrot whiteface clown that sings a variety of popular music covers, as well as his own songs. He’s a bit “out there” for me, but Joe digs it.
Joey Dewayne Porterfield (Joey) is Mary Belle’s first grandchild, and he is now forty-six. We all have to grow up, Joe. You’ve managed to do it while keeping your hobbies interesting and your stories fresh. You’re still a pretty cool kid. Even if you did take my title belt of “the baby” like Hulk Hogan kicking out from under Randy Savage and putting the Leg Drop on him in WrestleMania V. Take a victory lap, dude. You’re a winner in my book. Love ya, man.
Happy Birthday, Joe!
God bless Y’all.
Rolling Stones 