365 # 92: Vince

You were the spitting image of Clark Gable, right down to the perfectly groomed mustache, and you sang like an old time country star. About the only thing that would wipe the smile off of your face was having to go to work. I remember one night, you, me, a few other guys, and a cooler of beer, all sitting around a campfire, getting drunk, a bit rowdy, all swearing the bonds of friendship that alcohol and a starry sky tend to inspire. Every now and then you'd launch into song and we'd all stop to listen. I can still remember the sound of your "Pancho and Lefty."