NGC4594, sent me a photo of he and Bliss some place in England via Facepoop. They both looked as old as I felt. Bear had a blue tee shirt with a white one word sentence... 'Write.'
I had just returned from Connecticut, where I visited with my life long friend Wayne 'Wheathead' Davis on his deathbed. Wayne had only days left and he was pissed about it. The only thing that relieved the pain wasn't the morphine but was writing. He was angry as hell about dying and all he could feel good about was sharing the life and fun times on a page, hand written.
ticket to leave.