When I was 17 one of my best friends was 82. he was an old farmer that I sometimes did chores for and helped him milk his cows. Fascinating old man who had been a vaudeville musician who knew ALL the old performers: the Marx brothers (all five of them), George Burns, you name ‘em! He played for the Klan, the Knights of Columbus, The Chicago Mob, again, you name ‘em! He lived through Prohibition running rum from one end of the county to the other. Somebody who had lived an adventurous life. We would milk the cows, finish the chores and then spend an evening of riotous stories. God, how I miss him!

His family told me how much I meant to him. I wish I could tell him how much he meant to me. He kept me sane through high school.