Is it possible to know too much about your heroes?

I know too much about one of my heroes, thanks to the book Heaven and Hell.

Written by former Eagles guitarist Don Felder, the tell-all describes Felder’s life as a member of (arguably) the most successful American rock group in music history. It contains portrayals of his bandmates that are unflattering in the extreme.

Glenn Frey and Don Henley, the co-founders of the band, get particularly harsh treatment.

I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say Frey and Henley (he’s the one who’s a hero of mine) come off as vain and power-hungry; the other Eagles refer to them as “the Gods” behind their backs since that’s what they think they are.

At least according to Felder.

By his own admission, the co-writer of Hotel California has an ax to grind, having parted from the band on bad terms.

But even if only a small percentage of what Felder has to say is gospel (he hasn’t been sued over his memoir, to my knowledge), Heaven and Hell would still be a damning piece of work.

As I have mentioned in this space before, I am a long-time fan of Henley. I have great respect for his writing skills.

I like his music so much, I even enjoyed his 2000 solo album Inside Job — and no one liked that one!

The only time I met him, in Los Angeles eight years ago, he behaved like a prince. In fact, he was a journalist’s dream, waving off the publicist when she came to end our interview. I’ve met a lot of celebrities and I can honestly say he was one of the nicest.

So what am I to think?

Felder knew him better so Henley must be a jerk, right?

All I know for sure is when I finished Felder’s book, I was left with the feeling I had gained too much knowledge about my hero.

I had that same sinking sensation we all experience when we learn our role models have feet of clay (just ask a John Edwards supporter). I was, I am, disillusioned because I held him in such high regard.

This isn’t the first time one of my heroes has disappointed me and it won’t be the last. Fool that I am, I know enough about myself to realize my newfound knowledge won’t stop me from putting people on pedestals.

I know I shouldn’t do this. I know we’re all human, all flawed in some way. I know there’s no hero who can stand up to scrutiny — heck, even Mother Teresa had her critics.

But I’ll persist in my foolish optimism.

I guess I’ll never learn.