My brother Brad is currently spending a year-long retreat in Colorado as part of seminary. As a result, I have been sending him a bunch of snail-mail letters. This week, I’m honoring seven songs that remind me of him. My reflections will be in epistolary form, and I’ll actually print them out and mail them.

Dear Brad,

I think it would be safe to say that you have been the progenitor of more inside jokes and recurring bits — I think the kids call them memes these days — than any other member of the Stalcup family.

Certainly, you’re responsible for some of the greatest ones. For example: I genuinely laugh out loud every time I think of that time you got banned on Facebook for typing “no u” too many times. And who can forget Poop -Max B.? The “doohhh” laugh? Bumble Bee tuna? Poop sandwich?

I want to take a moment today to reflect on the way you re-invented the Notre Dame Victory March.

Obviously this song has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember due to our parents attending and meeting at the great South Bend institution. (You too, of course.)

I remember how a few years ago, you introduced us to the way the marching band kicks off the Victory March with the conductors baton when the football team scores a touchdown. You showed us how you simulate it whenever anything good happening. It’s an excellent, if obnoxious way, to celebrate.

It’s one of those great dumb things for which I am eternally grateful.

Yours in golden-domed, pantomimed celebration,

Dan

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