Thursday September 18, 2025 Dear Chairman Joe

  

   Thanks fer the reminder you sent me of yer younger brother Stephen's birthday yesterday, September 17. I called ‘im up right away knowin' likely he'd be at Jo's Nautical Bar in Hull where he always goes on his birthday and all the other days of the week, when someone soundin' like a woman answered da phone. 

So I sez, in a loud but distinct eastern seaboard imitation of some note, I sez “Is dis 'ere Jo’s Nautical Bar in 'ull, Massachusetts? I’m looking to wish Chairman Joe's brother, Stephen, a happy 74th birthday!

The voice on the other end laughed. I repeated my question, intoning my perfect rendition of 'ull, Massachusettes-speak,

“Is dis 'ere Jo’s Nautical Bar in 'ull Massachusettes, just off da gut there? I’m lookin' to talk to a Stephen McD dere and wish him a happy birthday, eh.

"Stephen. I'll spell it: 'ess-tee-pee-ayche-ee-en.' No, not Steff-fen, iz Steven: Ess-tee-ee-vee-ee-en, sounds like Steven, but iz spelled Stephen Ess-tee-pee-ayche-ee-en. Yes, I'm sure...

It may ‘ave been ‘is ornery wife, but I’m not positive for she nought identified herself. Choosin’ to believe it vas ‘is missus, an' allegedly in the car with ‘im, nod, nod, wink, wink, she said he vas not at Jo’s Nautical Bar in Hull Massachusetts but instead driving dat very car t’rough the t’ick of Boston traffic on the way to his birthday party.

Den she told me, an' everyone else in da car, that I vas on speaker phone, den ‘anded da phone to Stephen ennaways, drivin' as 'e vas!

So surprised ‘e vas, (youse ain't jest jokin'), 'e laughed at the idea of who was callin' 'im, from Minnesota, all the while ‘e vas driving t’rough the t’ick of Boston traffic on the way to his birthday party, where, he lamented quietly to me, there would not be Guinness, but instead fancy-dancy red wine he’d be sipping wit’ ‘is pizza instead, the poor lad. 

I told ‘im, I sez “Yer eldest brudder emailed me dis here picture, an’ I ‘ad to look twice — two times even — to recognize that ruddy complexion under that deflated resemblance of a birthday cake upon i’s ‘ead to be yer own an’ not yer older brudder Bill’s.

And den Stephen hisself said, all the while ‘e vas driving t’rough the t’ick of Boston traffic on the way to his birthday party, ‘e said. “Well, itz because, well, ... we’re related. 

An’ I sez, I sez, "Yah but, yer brudder Mark ‘e doesn’t look like any of ye, 'ceptin' oddly enough yer sister, an’ it’s rumored ‘ereabouts ‘e’s related to youse guys too, — like brudders.” 

An Stephen McD hisself sez in repy to me, he sez, “Yah, Mark is the black sheep of da family. along that line an’ all.

An’ I sez, I sez “Well, ‘black’ meanin’ ‘e’s ‘different from youse all, in a facial 'air and 'air color kinda way, but you share the same genetic code from both your parents, eh.

Not every last one of ye have to still have red 'air and freckles at yer advanced ages.

"Whoa! I 'eard dat alarm go off," I sez.  Keep yer eyes on dat dere road, you birthday boy. We wantcha to 'ave many more of 'em. Adios, mi amigo.

"Happy trails to you.

An’ Stephen hisself sed. “Thanks fer callin’ me on me birthday den, Sven! Ciao!"

     

   Chairman Joe later commented: "You’ve done well to call and cheer up me brudder on ‘is special day when he’d drather be home in front of his hearth sipping’ on a Guinness instead of drivin’ tru dat awful Boston traffic which inspired myself moved to da vilds of Palmville Township. They’re actually taking stoplights out, in da Roseau county seat. 

   (Seriously now, I also thought he looked exactly like Bill.)