In case you’re not aware, I have a close relationship with my older brother Al. I looked up to him. No, no... Scrap that. I idolized him. He was my hero. I tried to be like him, even as a young kid. I wore my hair slicked back as he did. I’d put on Led Zeppelin II and listen to Living Loving Maid over and over until the record was scratched thin, after seeing and hearing Al kill it on his Les Paul note by note.
At first, I was Al’s irritating little shadow. I walked like him, talked like him, even dressed like him up to a certain age. He got so exasperated by it, to a point that he almost punched my lights out one time we bumped into each other on the street. I still remember it like it was yesterday.
It was a Tuesday afternoon and I just got out of scho...
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