The holidays are especially rough for many families who have fallen on hard times, so every year we try to give some folks the Christmas they thought they’d never have. Most of these people never expected to be in such a place and had no control over what forced them there. I remember that feeling of failure and shame when I had to declare bankruptcy in my 20s. It’s very hard to ask for help when you’ve never had to ask before. But we all need a little help at some point in our lives—when we’ve reached the end of our rope and all we can do is tie a knot and hang on.
In New Orleans, we found an amazing charitable organization called SBP that was trying to help families affected by Hurricane Katrina, who are still struggling to get on their feet more than a decade later. SBP raises money for renovations to make homes livable again. We partnered with them to shoot a special Brothers Take New Orleans series to renovate a duplex that had been uninhabitable from the water and wind damage Katrina caused in August 2005.
The duplex belonged to a woman who had put every dime she had into fixing the damage to her home, only to have the contractor she hired rip the house apart and take off with the money. For the past 11 years, she had been living on a mattress on the floor of a rental apartment 45 minutes out of town. Even working three jobs, that’s all she could afford. The natural disaster had taken everything else from her.
We came in and fully renovated the duplex from top to bottom, complete with brand-new furniture and decor. When the owner came to see the progress on her house, she didn’t understand why we would be doing something like this for her. She said she didn’t deserve it.*
*Hearing this nearly brought tears to my eyes. I want everyone to feel they DO deserve a beautiful place to live and that there is hope in all aspects of their lives.
When the project was done, the woman moved back in and was so incredibly thankful. I can’t imagine being forced out of my home, not to return for 11 years. She let her brother’s family move into the other side of the duplex, which was a wonderful gesture and showed she was already paying it forward.
There’s nothing we cherish more than family, and the strength we draw from our own clan inspires us every single day. When Dad had a health scare last year, we thought we were going to lose him. He was 82, and a kidney infection became so serious, he dropped 50 pounds and landed in the ICU. The doctors told Mom to start making final arrangements. None of us were nearby at the time, and she was alone at the hospital with him until we could arrange flights and get there. I remember his voice sounding so weak, we could barely hear him. We learned there was a new kind of surgery that offered a slim hope of saving him, and Dad pulled through. He’s regained most of the weight and all of his spirit. That Cowboy Code came through again. Always finish what you start.
There’s a part of the code I never did really get as a kid but I understand it now: Always ride for the brand. It has to do with representing what you stand for, and staying true to it. Our brand is our name, our identity, our family.
It’s rare for Drew and I to have a heart-to-heart conversation about the smaller picture instead of the bigger one. When we do talk about what we want our own lives to look like in the near future, we both paint idyllic pictures of marrying our soulmates and designing separate homes with doors that are always open and Monopoly boards always waiting for the ultimate winner-take-all showdown. There’ll be kids, of course. Plenty of them, we hope, full of curiosity and confidence and kindness. Twins would be good.
We fantasize about renovating a castle in Scotland someday, or checking off the same wish we both have on our bucket lists—to search for buried treasure. Maybe that sounds childish. I hope so, because growing up shouldn’t cost any of us childhood’s greatest gifts. That boundless enthusiasm, unbridled imagination, and naive belief that anything is possible is what got us this far, after all. We carry with us the wisdom of cowboys we have known, the mischief of clowns, the discipline of senseis, the mystery of illusionists.
In the end, it’s not the stories we tell that matter, but the stories we live. Not just our own, but those we pass through on our way to all those places we still hope to go.
What we don’t know is more thrilling than what we already do. We’re reminded of this every time we stand in front of yet another door of another house, of another adventure just waiting to be seized.
You can never know what you might find until you get inside.
THE END.
So . . . this is the spot where we’re supposed to wrap everything up and say the story’s over. Nothing more to see here, please exit in an orderly fashion and take your belongings with you, there are editors waiting to turn out the lights and go home to their own families.
STOP!!! Wait, don’t go!!!
Our story’s NOT over, and neither is this party. We have plenty of snacks left . . . good ones! There are still cashews in the nut mix. Please help yourselves to this buffet of random stories, weird facts, and embarrassing secrets (like which one of us wears a garter belt).
Uh, No . . . But Thanks For Playing: Show Titles We Rejected
When we were originally pitched the idea of doing a show about our real estate business, it had a working title of My Dream Home. We felt we could do MUCH better. Here’s the actual list of names that came out of our creative session . . . before we eventually wound up agreeing on Property Brothers.
Clown School, Cum Laude
We’ll bet you didn’t know that the best balls for juggling are fuzzy tennis balls sliced open a tiny bit and filled with a small amount of split peas, then taped up again. Only split peas. No black-eyed, chick, or pigeon peas. No idea why. A weight thing? Less likely to jam the vacuum cleaner when the tape comes off midair? Our six-plus years as professionals in the clowning arts taught us this, among many other things that proved never to come in handy when trying to impress the opposite sex. For example, when applying the classic white clown makeup you need to pat the whole face thoroughly, which smooths out the lines, makes you less creepy, and prevents you from looking like you belong in a child’s nightmares. And also, the cost-effective secret to locking in that facial makeup freshness . . . baby powder. When it’s not being used to prevent diaper rash, it’s preserving red noses, fake freckles, and all things clowny.
DOUBLE DARE
In which we name three outrageous dares the other would never accept, and three he probably would . . .
Jonathan
1.Drew would never turn off his phone and give it up. Not for a week, a day, or even an hour. It may actually be his lifeline.
2.He definitely would never roll in insulation—he HATES insulation, and by the way he reacts when I toss it at him, I’m assuming a roll of the stuff either beat him up as a kid or cut him off in traffic.
3.Finally, if I dared Drew to take everything in his overly organized closet and mess it all up for a week, he’d probably have a complete meltdown. There are not many things in this life that stress him out more than lack of organization.
As far as outrageous things I could get him to do on a dare: Hmm . . .
1.Waterfall kayaking. Any extreme sport, really. It’s like he has to prove he’s fearless.
2.He would also willingly walk up to any complete stranger and convince them to do anything—burp the alphabet, drink one of his disgusting protein shakes . . .
3.. . . and if I dared him to take lessons in anything bizarre, he’d sign right up, if he wasn’t already registered. With Drew’s competitive spirit, obsession with taking lessons, and drive to succeed, I could probably have him ready for the synchronized swim team by the next Summer Olympics.
Drew
This is a little tricky for Jonathan because he has a lot lower standards than I do.
1.I couldn’t dare him to eat a random insect because he’d probably do it, but I BET he wouldn’t drink an entire serving of one of my protein shakes, as he finds them absolutely revolting.
2.He also would never do a toothbrush commercial—the sound of a manual toothbrush makes his skin crawl. It’s really weird.
3.Lastly, I’d say if I dared him to take a selfie every day for a month, he’d likely disown me as a brother or destroy my phone in protest. He has made it pretty clear that that isn’t his thing.
Now for dares he would do . . .
1.Skydiving. He’s always wanted to do it. Maybe it’s from watching Copperfield fly, but easily that would be a “yes” for Jonathan—except our host insurance policies forbid it.
2.Secondly, go on a survivalist excursion, like Survivorman (as long as there was a decent marinade for the grilled scorpions). Jonathan loves to travel more than anybody I know, and he doesn’t have to stay at the fanciest hotels. It’s about the experience and the memories for him.
3.Lastly, he would probably also enter a hot dog, Cheezies, or any sugary treat–eating contest. He doesn’t deny his affection for confection. It’s possible I wouldn’t have to even dare him. (Actually, he might just do that anyway, like, for lunch.)
NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCES
Drew
During a party in London in my early 20s, I walked out onto a 5-foot-deep window ledge on the tenth floor of a building. It was slightly wet and mossy. Nevertheless, I proceeded to step across the corner to another ledge that was a foot lower as everybody remaining on the bigger ledge went back inside. After determining that slick surfaces and stiff drinks don’t mix, I attempted to get back inside, but the window on my tiny ledge didn’t open. As I made my way back up to the higher ledge, I lost my footing, and in what seemed like slow motion I desperately grabbed at anything I could. It was a sheer drop 100 feet down to the sidewalk. I managed to get my hand wedged into a missing brick and crawled back inside. That was too close for comfort.
I also had a scary road-rage incident. This guy aggressively cut in front of me in traffic and blocked an intersection. He was clearly in the wrong and then proceeded to flip me off out his driver window. So I gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up out my window, at which point he stepped out of his vehicle and came at me yelling, “I’ll beat you with a bat!” In an overly calm manner, I got out of my car and responded, “I don’t see a bat. Where’s your bat?” We went back and forth like this for a minute, and cars started honking as we held up traffic. Then, as though a switch flipped, he pulled out a knife and started screaming that he doesn’t need a bat. The only thing between him and me was the door of my car. After a couple swipes I got back in my car and called the police. The guy took off, and who knows if he was ever caught. Sigh.
Jonathan
Early on in my renovation days, before I had taken any construction-site safety training, I’d take on the occasional task knowing there was inherent risk involved. One such time was when I was changing out the breakers on an old, rusted electrical panel. I could not get the screw to turn and foresaw the danger of pushing too hard into the panel. As an idiotic safety precaution, I had JD stand next to me with a 2x4 in case I got electrocuted and couldn’t let go of the tool. He would knock me free and remain unharmed, since wood doesn’t conduct. As I tried rotating the metal screwdriver again, it kept slipping, so I kept pushing harder and harder to get a grip. All of a sudden, the screwdriver slipped right into the heart of the panel and zapped me like you wouldn’t believe. JD didn’t have to hit me because I went flying back on my own. I was a little dazed and definitely confused. But at least I still had all my fingers and a heartbeat.
There was one other time that stands out. When I was about 16, I remember I was driving with a buddy, and we were chatting about who knows what, and I remember having the sudden urge to prove my street cred by drag racing solo off an imaginary line and showing him how fast my ’82 Oldsmobile Omega could go. Which was something like 0–60 in 2 or 3 minutes. Regardless, I had picked up enough speed that I didn’t have time to slow down when I noticed the stop sign I was passing. I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt, and I T-boned a pickup truck at full speed. My car was destroyed, and the truck was sent flying a hundred yards in the opposite direction. I had hit my mouth on the steering wheel, splitting my gums wide open, and there was blood everywhere. One moment spent trying to prove something and the only thing I proved was that I wasn’t thinking. Fortunately, nobody was seriously injured, but it was a wakeup call.
SUPPORTING THE ARTS
Early on in high school, Drew got a callback to audition for a role as a nerdy science kid in a television series. He found a pair of Coke-bottle glasses to wear for his meeting with the director and producer. The casting people made a big deal out of how cool the specs were and asked where on earth he had found such a prop. Drew thought he had the role in the bag, but he never heard back from them again. Curious to find out who got the part and what they had that he didn’t, Drew turned on the show, only to see one of the lead characters now wearing the exact same Coke-bottle glasses as the ones he had been sporting. You’d think they would have at least sent a thank-you card. Or hired him for wardrobe.
Jonathan: To truly have vision, you must take risks. You must see the world in a way it hasn’t been seen.
Drew: Nothing inspires me more than seeing my friends and family succeed. To be genuinely happy for someone close to you is pure joy.
WELL, WE DIDN’T SEE THAT COMING
Jonathan
Living as part of a family like ours, inevitably there will be some quick comebacks, smart remarks, and retorts you didn’t anticipate. Mom actually kept a journal of all such humorous moments. One was when we were around 4 years old. We were out in the middle of nowhere, camping and soaking up all that Mother Nature had to offer. We were nearing the end of our trip, which had just breezed by, when Dad and I went for a stroll down to the lake to see what the fishing scene was like. It could have been the fresh air or the vast mountain ranges that were inspiring me (or, more likely, my underdeveloped grasp of the English language). But I threw my hands on my hips in a mini-superhero pose and sighed, “Wow, Dad. Time is passing like wind.”
Another time, only about a year later, we were at the bank with Dad. (Actually, we were pretty much wherever he was, which is why we were nicknamed his shadows.) Standing about 10 feet in front of us was an African-American family with a 2-year-old bouncing around carefree. Dad smiled lovingly. “I remember when you guys were that age.” There was a pause, and 5-year-old Drew piped up with innocent wonder: “Were we black, too?”
In more recent years, when a reporter interviewing us at home asked what age we were when we got separate rooms, we couldn’t remember for sure. I turned and asked Mom, who was in town visiting, “Hey, Mom, how old were we when we stopped sleeping in our bunk beds?”
“Twenty-one or twenty-two,” she sweetly deadpanned.
WEIRDEST THING PURCHASED RECENTLY
Drew
Lovable weirdo that he is, Jonathan likes to create strange, unique gifts for Jacinta, so he bought an old-school looking Jack-in-the-box that he saw in Montreal. Once he got it back to Vegas, he yanked off the head and replaced it with his own from one of our bobblehead dolls. Now when the Jon-in-the-box pops up, it’s holding a sign that says “I ♥ Jacinta.”
Jonathan
A “man garter.” I could probably leave it there and you’d be wondering what the heck I’m talking about. Let me explain. You know what a garter is, right? Basically an elastic band that goes around the upper thigh, typically found on a bride or a burlesque dancer. Yep, like that. Drew bought himself one. Except his has been adapted with bands that clip onto his shirt to prevent it from becoming untucked, which I didn’t realize was a major issue. Believe me, the first time you walk in on your brother wearing his man-garter, you won’t know whether to laugh or cry.
EARLIEST AMBITION
In kindergarten, everyone sat in a circle and announced what they wanted to be when they grew up. There was a long litany of fireman, doctor, policeman, teacher, astronaut,
ballerina, etc. Come Jonathan’s turn, he stood up in front of the whole class, looked around, and proudly proclaimed, “I’m going to be a flower man.” Nobody really knew whether he planned on growing flowers, arranging them, delivering them, or morphing into one, but at that age, everything was exciting and the class applauded.
Drew went through a phase when all he could think about was collecting stamps. You may think he’d scour the planet looking for the rarest finds, but without a driver’s license, trust fund, or even an elementary school diploma at this point, he would cut them off of any mail that he came across. This was an interesting way to see postal practices from around the globe, but his lust for stamp-licking was out of control, and he started cutting them off letters Mom and Dad hadn’t mailed yet, or he would take their entire roll of unused stamps and put them in his book. Fortunately he grew out of the phase as our parents were about to pack him up and send him to a faraway place . . . assuming they could find the necessary postage.
GHOSTBUSTERS
We both believe in ghosts and love to visit haunted destinations whenever we have the opportunity. The obsession started when traveling in Scotland as little kids, touring all the castles, cathedrals, and ruins we could find. We’ve been to dozens and dozens of publicly advertised paranormal places without seeing a single spook, but when we were younger and not expecting anything—that’s when we got our proof.
Drew is certain he has seen ghosts twice. The first time was with me when we were 6 and exploring in the forest behind our summer camp lodge. It was dusk, and the forest had turned from a fun place to frolic into an eerie environment that sent chills up our spines. At the crest of the hill, we saw a subtle glow coming through the fog. Strange, as there was no road up there. Then, all of a sudden, a strange dog-like beast dove through the trees and came right for us. It chased us down the hill toward the lodge. We were freaking out, and it was gaining on us. We kept glancing over our shoulders to prepare for who it would grab first. Then, without warning, it jumped into the air and vanished like mist.
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