Dearest old man, I miss your weekly visits to my bar. To anyone who didn't know you, you looked homeless, careless and alcoholic. I think you were one of the best storytellers I've ever heard, near-toothless speech, hacking coughs and all. You were prejudiced as all hell, but unabashedly so. A last free spirit from an age of raucous drunk driving, 25-cent movies at The Oxford and smuggling lobsters to your sister's house. Thank you for sending a friend to let me know you passed away. I think you were great. —Daytime Bartender