A MAN in his late 50s, possibly visibly disabled, stands on stage,
holding a record case.
HE addresses the audience.

MAN

My older brother, Dan, and I have collected records since—I don’t know when—since we were kids. LPs, you know—Bob Dylan, Neil Young, The Doors —we loved the music and we both had quite an extensive collection. Some of them pretty valuable.

When I was growing up, I used to keep them in a duffle trunk, locked up. At the foot of my bed. Now I just keep them in here.

(HE points to a record carrying case)

I used to do this thing that would supposedly drive my brother crazy. When a new album was about to be released, I’d go and wait in line at the record store. You know, stand there till they opened. I had the patience. I was the one with the patience.

Once I got inside, I wouldn’t buy just one, I’d buy two—two copies of the same record. I’d leave one record sealed and open the other one so I could listen to it. Dylan was my favorite. I’d have the whole thing memorized within a couple of days or so.

Well, I think I just got lucky or something ‘cause one day, March, 1963 … I don’t remember the day but I was in eighth grade. Eighth grade. I wait in line at the same ol’ record store and I buy two copies of "The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan" album on the Columbia label. Two copies. Unbelievable. Number CS-8786 in stereo. Now this is what makes it extra special. It’s got "360 sound stereo" in black on the label and it has no arrows. The record plays and the label lists the songs: "Let Me Die in my Footsteps," "Rocks and Gravel," "Talkin’ John Birch Blues" and "Gambling Willie’s Dead Man’s Hand." Okay? You with me?

This album now books for over $30,000 in near mint condition and I had two—one sealed and one I’d listened to but was still pretty much mint. No known stereo copies play these without listing them. And I had two copies. Who knows what the sealed one was worth?

I’ve never really understood my brother. He was different than me. Just different. That’s all I’m saying. We got along okay but I always knew inside, there was something different about him.

1969, I get drafted into the army. Vietnam. It sucked. And I’m … sort of restricted now because of it. Can’t work. I’ve lived with my parents ever since I got back.

1971, I come home, they sent me home ‘cause I was done. Done. And I go to open my trunk and the sealed "Freewheelin’" record is missing. I asked my mom if anyone had been in the trunk while I was gone and she swore no one had touched it. I had the only key and I took it with me to Nam. No one knew I had that record but my family and no one knew of its value except my older brother. Dan.

Spending two years killing people with piano wire pretty much put me in a mood to confront, you know what I mean? Piano wire. I specialized in it.

I drop by his house, without calling, and ask him about the record. Of course he denies it so I drop it. Believe it or not, I drop it. Mostly because he seemed to be telling the truth. But that’s the difference between him and me. If I was lying, I couldn’t look you in the face. He had no problem with this. No problem with lying and looking you right in the face. Well, I say to him, "Hey, if you don’t have it, then you won’t have any problem with me looking through your LPs." And he says to me, "I gave ‘em to the Goodwill. Don’t have any left. All gone, Joey. They’re all gone." He looks me right in the eye and tells me this.

Well, after the funeral yesterday, I go over to the house. His wife asked me to. I go over there and she presents me with this box, this heavy box and they help me to load it into my van. I get home, pull it out and it’s all his old records.

The ones he gave to the Goodwill, I guess. Most of them beat up, you know, ‘cause he didn’t take care of ‘em, but there’s this one—sealed, mint. "Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan." "Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan"! Ain’t no one had that sealed record in the world but me. No one but me. Can you imagine? The mother fucker stole it from me. His crippled brother. Just back from Vietnam. Lyin’ and lookin’ me right in the eye. I call up his wife and she says, "Joey, go buy yourself a house. Go buy yourself a house." So I did. I fuckin’ did, mother fucker.