When I was very young, and sittin there watchin TV in the front room of our house, I would hear my big brother's motorcycle as he made his way homeward across the field in front of our house. A lot of teenagers had motorcycles in our neighborhood, but I knew my brother's by the sound of his engine. When I heard him, I'd run outside and open the garage door for him so he could just ride right in and park. "Thanks, Jeesher."

'Jeesher,' he called me. That or 'Captain.' "HEY CAPTAIN!"

My mom called me 'Little Bear.'

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