My first clear memory is of holding a nickel. The coin was a bribe, no doubt about it. In fact, it may have been the first bribe I was offered, coinciding neatly with my first memory.

I was three years old and had just acquired a baby brother. I wasn’t allowed into the hospital, but the nurse held him up to window so I could see his little bald head. He looked vaguely interesting — but nowhere near as fascinating as the nickel. Suddenly I had come into a fortune. I could buy a whole candy bar, or five pieces of penny candy.

As it turned out, the candy was only a fleeting pleasure. But my brother Phillip, who I tried to smother with baby powder, who I implored my parents to remove immediately — “take that baby back to St. Joseph’s [Hospital],” I said — he stuck around much longer.

Today, he celebrates a birthday. I hope he celebrates many, many more.