Mike

So, Mike.  

He was my older brother.  Teaching me all the things to do when one is an older brother - rules bending, rules breaking, blame shifting, obfuscation, and dating.  With a modest dash of tweaking the parents to boot.

Mike died when he was 14, although in his short life he taught me a lifetime of lessons mostly by showing me what not to do.  Although, that didn't apply to dating.  He was quite accomplished and dated enough to see eye-to-eye on love with friends, friend's dads, and friend's grandfathers with equal parts brilliance and bullshit (and pull it off.)  

I was never one to have success with the ladies, so this might be a good opportunity to explore what I could have learned about dating from Mike.  OR to highlight why I was never as successful at dating.  Yeah, the second one:

• When seeking his desire Mike brought bravado, I brought confusion
  
• Mike was a smooth talker, I was a mumbler
  
• His immaculate dress was offset by my rumpled professor look
  
• Mike spent hours ensuring he got the right look...I had a healthy fear of combs
  
• His muscled chest and arms where no match for my concave chest
  
• He had Romanesque locks and stature to contrast with my stately Steve Urkel build
  

Thus, he had a port in all storms, a ship in all ports and more nautical themed hijinx I can't mention here where my dinghy seldom set sail.  In the end, I managed alright - for a rumpled professor mumbler with a concave chest.  Or maybe it was pity...