Friday Night Memories of Dan

I don't have many good memories of my oldest brother Dan.
He was about 10 years older than me, and was a very angry person. I can't count on all my appendages the number of times his anger would show at my parents, or my grandmother, or me. He left home at 17; that is to say, he left our house and moved in with my grandmother. He and my father never got along well; Pop was a school teacher who believed in order and discipline and Dan was more of a free spirit who didn't like to be told what to do. Their major rift occurred when Dan was on the high school newspaper. Dan was in on a stunt that involved publishing a non-flattering story about the principal and one of the social studies teachers. There had always been a "hush hush" rumour the two were involved, and a story was published that pushed the limits of what satire high school journalists were allowed to invoke.
Dan was a bit of a self-centered guy; that is unless you asked anyone outside the family. I can't count the number of people who told me what a great guy he was. I generally remember the angry cursings he'd lay on Pop, or Mom, or Granny or occasionally me.
Tonight I read a story in the Charlotte Observer that brought back one good memory I have of my brother.
When I was about 8 or so, my grandmother lived across an empty field behind our house in a small neighborhood called Dal Wan Heights. You could see her home from my backyard, and that's the neighborhood I grew up in. Usually on the weekends, it was a big deal for me to walk across that field around dusk and spend the night on her living room sofa. Starting around 8, I could have the television to watch sitcoms like Brady Bunch, Love Boat, Sanford & Son, Fantasy Island, and then if I wasn't too tired I'd stay up for either the Late Show movie or saturday Night Live.
As Dan was in his late teens, he'd be out carousing with his buddies. Never a drinker or partier, he'd roll in around 11:30 or midnight and more often than not he had a Village Inn Pizza and 2 liter Pepsi tucked under his arm.
As much of a "pest" as I was, he'd usually offer me a slice or two of his pizza and pour me a glass of Pepsi. We'd then retire to his bedroom where he'd switch on his TV and turn it to reruns of Mid Atlantic Championship Wrestling.
There, we'd cheer on his favorites; Ric Fair & Greg Valentine, Sergeant Slaughter, The Four Horsemen, and a host of others whose names I've long forgotten. Occasionally, we'd have the beginning of a "deep" philosophical conversation, but usually it was a lot lighter. I think he just was really lonely and wanted some company before he slept.
Sometime after about 2AM, back in those days the National Anthem would play announcing the end of the broadcast day, then go to a test pattern. I'd retreat to the living room, and sleep until Granny woke around 9 and made me silver dollar pancakes with bacon.
Dan brought a lot of grief to my parents. He never really was able to support himself, and always seemed to make poor decisions about money management and the people in his life. In retrospect, he had a number of self esteem issues and was never able to establish anything more than superficial interpersonal relationships. The really sad thing is that he overlooked the very people in his family that could have been his cornerstone.
Still, on nights like tonight when I take inventory of the fun times I had in simpler times, watching late night TV & wrestling while eating pizza with Dan always seems to come to mind.