Shoulda Been 40

Not to be too much of a downer, but today is a very depressing day for me. Today my brother would have been 40 years old. Folks who know me well would be able to tell you how important and what an influence he was on my life -- for good and bad. Even now, over five years since his passing, I find myself thinking of him and missing him each and every day. That's not some stupid exaggeration -- not a single day passes that I don't think of him. He was the one person who I could really talk to -- as children he was my confidant -- and the one person who I truly felt supported and was proud of my "artistic" endeavors.

He was the most natural musician who I've ever encountered. The man could play literally anything. Guitar, piano, cello ... name it. I remember vividly a cousin visiting us when we were children and bringing his slide trombone. Neither Chuck nor I had ever even seen a trombone in person. After spending five or ten minutes figuring out how to pucker and blow and make the darn thing make some noise, Chuck was playing Dixie Land jazz on the damn thing. Quite literally ten minutes elapsed from being first introduced to an instrument to being able to play it. To me that is nothing short of miraculous.

Just months before passing away he finished recording his first real demo. He did practically everything -- from turning his bedroom into a professional studio, to recording guitar tracks, bass tracks, and vocal tracks -- and churned out six songs that he was very proud of. Shopping those tracks around and playing the occasional gig here and there, it really looked like Chuck was finally going to "make it." He had, much like I, lived a hard life. More than a fair share of the troubles he experienced in his life were brought upon himself -- you may not be able to have much sympathy for that, but as someone who has done likewise, I can. And trust me, I never experienced the majority of the hardships and challenges he did.

You think my stories are something? Ha! You should hear his! I'm so minor league when it comes to "bizarre crap happening in my life" by comparison.

Those six songs are fixtures on my iPod. His photo hangs on my wall. He is the unseen driving force behind my so-called career as an actor and writer. He is the soul of my sense of humor ("I got you babe") and the brains behind much of my shtick. And dear Lord, I would trade it all in to have one evening drinking beer and shooting the breeze with my brother again.