It took almost 40 years of my life before I ever knew that this annoyed you. It’s funny to think about the things we don’t know about the people closest to us, those with whom we share blood and for a time, a roof.
You, me and Mike were at the blockbuster/e-center/whatever the hell it was called at the time, in Camden New Jersey, for Willie Nelson’s traveling country carnival, together because there was a little bit of your favorites (Eric Church) and a little bit of mine (Avett Brothers) on the bill. Who wasn’t on the bill:
Barbara Streisand
ABBA
Neil Young, with or without Crazy Horse, or Crosby, Stills, Nash
The Grateful Dead
Garth Brooks was also not performing on this day. Same goes for George Straight, Florida Georgia Line, U2, and The Rolling Stones.
You were hilarious, Greg, bordering on indignant, saying “They’re not here!” and “When do they go on tonight?” sarcastically. Your comments were quiet jokes only for the benefit of your brothers.
I would never forget it, and when I’d head out to concerts, would purposely wear shirts of bands not playing, take selfies, and text the pics to you with a laugh-cry emoji.
A couple weeks ago, on a Wednesday night, at the Santiago Bernabeau, I had the good fortune of attending the Champions League match between holders Real Madrid and RB Leipzig. Naturally, I wore a Borussia Dortmund hoodie, and thought of you, and of the selfie I can still send but that you can longer receive.
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