Musing, as an aside:

Growing up, one of the hardest things to come to terms with was the reluctant realization that the people I admired most, my shining heroes, were in fact all too human. Imperfect, flawed, human, too like me, too like the dull and plodding work-a-day adults I saw around me. Debts and paychecks, booze, politics and pettiness.

For a time, after that hit home fully, I said, "I have no heroes." Meaning, there was no noble example to inspire me; none was worthy. That was a dark place, a hard and empty place. Empty pedestals.

But as time passed, and I dealt with the ongoing stuff of life, the thousand, plodding, petty and essential details, I slowly came to admire my heroes once again, in a more three-dimensional way. Despite their obvious flaws, despite the BS of money and paychecks and politics, they had accomplished things I enjoyed and admired. I take from them the best of what they had to offer; and I endeavour to build on their sound foundations, those that weather the test of the years. And I have forgiven them for being imperfect and plodding and human, like me.

Just musing; just my $0.02. FWIW.