Philip Kurjan

For the past few years, Philip has liked to tell a story from our childhood. I must have been about four and him about nine. We were living in a two story townhouse with a single bathroom upstairs. He would be walking upstairs to go to the bathroom and I would rush past him, run into the bathroom, and lock myself in. He complained to our parents, but they just laughed. I always thought it was odd that he liked to tell this story, given that he lost in a race with a sister who at that time really was a "baby" sister. Another incident, at about the same time or within a couple of years, was some fun we had one Sunday morning, while our parents were sleeping in. I don't remember whose idea it was, but Philip pinned up my hair (which was longish at the time) with every barrette I had. When our mother woke up, she was horrified because my hair was all tangled and she knew I'd be crying as she took all of them out. My favorite story has to do with Tuffy, the Boston Terrier puppy we got when I was 7 years old. I remember Philip, our mother, and me being in the living room and this cute little puppy would come running from the bathroom with the end of the toilet paper in her mouth and yards of it streaming behind her. The three of us would laugh. Then at least 30 years later, both of us were visiting our mother in Portland and Philip told us that he had taught Tuffy to do that and again we all laughed. I never figured out why he waited so long to tell us. Was he afraid of getting in trouble? When I had my Golden Retriever puppy Mika 20 years ago, she started pulling the toilet paper into the living room. I accused Philip of sneaking up to Seattle and teaching her to do it. He claimed innocence. My final story isn't really about Philip, but it's a fun one. Again we were visiting our mother in Portland. Philip was going off for a hike in the Columbia Gorge and I was doing something else, I don't remember what. Out mother said "they've remodeled the gorge". Philip and I cracked up and our mother, rather angrily, asked what we were laughing at. I said (with difficultly due to laughing) "they didn't remodel the gorge". She said "yes they did". When we both got home later that day, Philip told me that they'd remodeled Timberline Lodge. (Our mother grew up in NYC and I don't think ever put foot on a trail.) Although it's really a story about our mother, it's provided a good joke between us in the years since. I'll miss being able to share that joke with Philip anymore. Raj's comment made me think of another story, wrt Philip's beard. When he was a young adult, it had red highlights (one grandparent on each side had red hair and so did I until a number of years ago). As he grew older, the highlights turned gray. One time when he was buying take-out barbecue at a favorite Portland restaurant (he was in his mid-50s) he was given too much change. When he told the young woman at the checkout that, she said that she'd given him the senior discount. The beard got shaved off shortly after that incident.