fender in the closet

i still remember the times i'd ask one of my brothers to teach me guitar and i still remember their response, no. by the time i really wanted to play i was thirteen and my oldest brother had gotten married and left. of course this left the one who was very much not interested in taking care of his little brother. although i can't say he never taught me anything, i used to sneak his writings from his drawers and read them intently, so you might say he inspired the creative writer within. but back to the story at hand; i remember his black fender strat in the closet and him telling me not to touch his guitar as he went off to work. i would raid that closet the second the door closed, grabbing all his guitar magazines and learning stairway to heaven. to this day i'm not even sure if his intention was to encourage me to learn or he simply did not want me playing his guitar, this is the vintage revival.....