By Jakob A. Motto
WOODSTOCK, VERMONT — Flying through the icy hills, it was 11:30 pm, high up in the trees, there was no one else I wanted as the captain of the ship, my mentor. It was pitch black, we were engulfed in a hazy fog, I felt as though I was floating, but I knew I wasn’t gonna fall, I was in safe hands.
I am currently celebrating Thanksgiving week with my whole family in Vermont, where my older brother goes to school. Straying away from my normal blog posts, this one is about my older brother, Henry. My brother is a renaissance man. He is passionate about everything he does.
There is no other man that I’ve seen who has over 10,000 songs in his library. A man who is the epitome of rock music, I think he was the very first person to shake their hair in the wind. He is an expert in mosh pits, an avid polish folk enthusiast and has mastered the art of jazz music.
His favorite hobby is to drive. Most people despise those 10+ hour drives to get to wherever they’re heading for vacation, but he lives for them. He loves to drive so much, his dream job is a semi truck driver because he would get to drive all across North America.
In his spare time, he writes poetry about his adventures at University. He speaks in such an abstract, grungy voice when he puts it to paper. I don’t know any other person that could make a trip to Wing Stop so captivating than him.
His wardrobe consists of nothing over $5. He believes that no article of clothing should cost more than how much he has in his wallet. He only shops at thrift shops, he even worked at Goodwill.
No-shave November lasts all year for him. He keeps his hair and beard long enough, my little brother and I swear he’s a wizard.
Henry is one of the smartest people I have ever met. He not only knows any fact about history, he some how knows exactly what to do in any situation ever. Even if he told me a lie, he tells stories so well that he can make anything sound true. He one time told our whole rowing team stories about his life at a regatta once, even if some weren’t true, but it didn’t matter, everyone loved them.
Henry has taught me to: be nothing but respectful to people of all backgrounds, not be so serious about things all the time, and especially, rock my ass off at concerts. Henry is my one and only true mentor. And will always be until the day that I die.