The Hard Part Of Life.

I am going out of town to a memorial service for a man that was in my life ever since I was dragged out of Oakland California at the tender age of Ten months old.
Leonard was my Granny's back yard neighbor for over Fifty years.

The last of a breed, the guy was a truck driver and had a heart attack on the road clear back when I was in High school.He was told by the medical establishment that he was going to die twenty five years ago, tells ya how much they know.
The man was an Ornery Bastard in Spades,I am going to pay my respects. Although I came by it naturally, I had some excellent fucking examples of how it should be done as ya get older. Environmental shaping and all that crap.
I grew up in a major lumber and logging town, Cowboys wouldn't last long enough to finish a beer.
I am the last of the Old School.
Thank yer lucky stars.

I also have to go to another service next Friday.
My Uncle died last Sunday.

That guy gave the label Ornery Bastard it's own spot in history.
We shared the same Birthday and a penchant fer likker too.

Part of the fun of living is learning how to deal with the dying and the dead.
It ain't a bit of fun and the older ya get, the more ya get to practice.