Muffle that Double Take

Whenever Peter Brady would see a pretty girl, a cool motorcycle, or a guy who looked like he smelled good, he’d overreact. He sometimes even yelled things, or just kind of squealed about it being time for change and something he needed to go rearrange. “Be cool, Peter,” his friends always said.

And here’s Peter a few months ago, witnessing a rare trifecta: a really cool motorcycle occupied by a bodacious babe, driven by a guy who looked like the scent of heaven was dripping from his broad shoulders. Luckily, years of pinching and under the table kicks by his wife have given Mr. Brady the ability, if not to be cool, at least to pull it in a little bit.

Some Pain, Some Gain

Tracy and Rayann knew they were a little out of shape, and started working out the summer they turned thirteen. Rayann’s older sister told them they’d never get anywhere, but agreed to take their picture. She was always one of the popular girls; she’d never understand. “Rayann, with cellulite-covered thighs like those, you’re screwed for life,” she said, tossing her hair.

But working out really does pay off if one is persistent, and now Rayann (on the left) and Tracy (center) are professional retro models, trying to make the clothes of yesteryear popular once more. And you can see from the look they’re getting from their jealous cohort that they’ve really got their act together. You go, girls.

Someone Your Own Size

Huey and Goob were highly competitive from the day they met at the local Y. Huey was surprisingly fast for his size. Goob always came in second, but never stopped trying. They had years of chummy fun trying to outdo each other.




















Until the day Huey made the mistake of saying something about penis size. Shortly after this picture was taken, Goob was rushed to the hospital. He had to stick up for himself and his masculinity, but of course Huey kicked his ass. He hopes he landed at least one solid punch, because, man, is this friendship over.

Never Gonna Give You Up

Back in the mid-70s, his freshly-earned liberal arts degree tossed in the back of his VW van along with a knapsack and a tent, young Benjamin (“Scooby-Doobie” to his close friends) had only a few things on his mind: getting laid, getting high, and maybe getting a job. Someday.




















The only thing that’s really changed about Benjamin (now “Ben” to his close friends) is his smoking methodology—oh, right, and his broken nose, and the nickname. He’s still got his van, the degree (which might as well still be fresh, unused as it is), the knapsack, the tent and the really short term memory. He is a true example of sticking to one’s guns, never giving up the dream, and having been lucky enough to meet his real true love at an early age.

Trike, Trike Again

Shecky couldn’t figure out the bike riding thing, even by the time he hit double digits. That shadow is his father, documenting another of Shecky’s many painful and humiliating flesh-on-asphalt moments.

















What no one understood at the time was that Shecky’s vision problems made it very difficult for him to keep his balance. He now pedals proudly, and hopes his dad is watching from heaven, because having the right ride made all the difference.

Dropped By Dad

Dad always liked Eddie best; that’s why he got a life jacket and a safe poolside perch. But when Erwin said he wanted to learn how to swim, he got flung like a booger. Then Dad and Eddie laughed when he surfaced, choking back the tears and swallowing so much water that he threw up later.




















Erwin eventually got over his aquaphobia, and had a successful career as a Wall Street broker, whereas Eddie inherited the family business, a bobble-head empire, and managed to run it into the ground within two years of their father’s death. Now Erwin lets Eddie rent the room above his garage and charges extra when he locks himself out.

Joey's First Grenade

It was an afternoon Joey would never forget, the day he abandoned his dreams of becoming a mechanic and pretended to have found a live grenade in the back yard. His dad, recently back from Vietnam, noticed him for the first time in months. He laughed and grabbed the camera. Joey prepared to lob his weapon. “Go for it, son!” he heard his dad yell, jokingly.

Seconds after the light bulb’s flash Joey’s mom came outside and told him she’d whup his ass next time she caught him picking her tomatoes, and pretty soon his dad cracked another beer and returned to his football game. Meanwhile, Joey stayed out in the yard savoring his golden moment.













Here’s Joey last Tuesday. He couldn’t get into the Army like his dad, but he’s managed to meld his childhood love of throwing fresh food into his adult life. He has his own apartment, is saving up for a Hummer, and thinks these are the best years of his life. He’s probably right.