Close Call for the Communicator

Yesterday's attacks in London struck fairly close to home, since London is the current home of my brother, the Communicator. (Hence the London weather link on the lower right side of the page.) Thankfully, he ended up being inconvenienced, but not hurt and also on the front page of my hometown paper. (Not sure how long that link will keep working) How he ended up in London is a story in and of itself.

My brother graduated from university with a degree in commerce and went into investment banking. He worked for several companies for a few years, working insane hours and making what I gather to be a rather decent buck. He'd dated the same girl since high school, lived in nice apartments, played hockey and was mostly pretty predictable. Or at least it seemed to me. We're not terribly close and rarely see each other or speak outside of family occasions.

The joke had always been that one day he'd call me and say "So, uh, are you free this weekend? I'm getting married." That didn't happen. The Communicator and the girl I called my "sister in-common-law" broke up, and then I think possibly aliens took over my brother's body.

First he fairly abruptly quit his job and then went to Europe on vacation for a few months. I guess he liked it there because shortly after he came back he started talking about finding a job in London.

Since our grandmother was a British citizen, my siblings and I are allowed to work in the UK. So, after some paperwork and some packing, off he went. He landed a job fairly quickly there, doing the same sort of investment banking stuff he did here. (I have only a faint idea of what it is he actually does. It involves lots of money and natural resources).

He shares a "flat" with two 23 year old Swedish girls and a Norwegian chef and from all accounts is having quite the time there.

He was quoted in the article as saying "I won'’t let it (the attacks) affect how I live my life."

Frankly, neither would I.