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My fascination with Billy Joel started at about eight years old when I discovered my dad’s copy of The Stranger. I didn’t realize it belonged to him initially, as I instinctively knew it was his. My dad, a charismatic and eclectic music aficionado, had a taste that was esoteric and layered—very different from my mother’s more mainstream, Top 40 preferences. My mother loved popular hits, while my dad would share stories from his youthful days, like how he first got into The Doors during his time in Vietnam. These stories painted him as a complex, intriguing figure.