Ok, agoraphobia…this makes sense to me. I actually witnessed
it in a family member years ago, when she experienced a great sense of
helplessness regarding life itself and would no longer travel because of it. As
well, one day a buddy was underneath my house for a plumbing project for less
than five minutes and only feet from the entry when claustrophobia caused his
immediate retreat.
And I may even place one onto myself. Yet, if asked, I'm
pretty sure that it may well be toward the top of most in regards to phobias. It is
called ‘ophidiophobia'. Yeah right, you're making up this word. No, actually it
is the fear of snakes. Most will even run from the common garden snake. And I
must admit, I’ve stepped back quickly a time or two when found in my yard. But,
I've also been the hero a couple of times when rescuing my neighborhood
children, and even their mom 😁
As well, you can turn to, what else, but to 'phobia list dot
com', to see hundreds of phobias which have been analyzed over the years.
Yet, all of these are overshadowed by the newest, most trendy
fear of all, that is “Diafonophobia”. And yes, I just coined the word myself. I
even did the almighty ‘Google' search. And the results returned an emphatic, “Your
search – Diafonophobia – did not match any documents”. So seriously Rick, what
the heck are you saying?
Again, using ‘Google' as our search engine we see that the
term “homophobic/homophobia” was first used in 1969. And though “transphobia”
tends to be a more recent term, it actually surfaced in 1992.
Today, our culture, the media, constantly bombard us as
having one or both of these fears. When in fact, the problem lies within
themselves and “diafonophobia”. They have a fear of disagreement! It is a two-part Greek word, διαφωνεί and φόβος. Most, coming
from my position … or as the new termed used, “Talking Point”, are not afraid
of homosexual or transsexual people. Seriously, am I afraid of these folks?
Perhaps you should do some research. You would find that I along with a great
majority who have the perspective in which I hold are not afraid of either
one of the above two groups. Rather the fear lies on their behalf. They are
‘afraid’ that we “disagree” with them.
Our Founders quickly recognized the need to add to our great
constitution. And with it came the ‘Bill of Right’s’. The VERY first one … is that of the freedom of speech. Such wisdom which allows us to say, to think …
as we so choose. Yes, as a follower of Christ, I firmly believe that our speech
should always be with grace and seasoned with salt. Salt, providing a great
means, in order to savor our disagreements.
Note: This blog was in regards to the use/misuse of terms. I realize that harm and violence has occurred within people of homosexual persuasion, and some of this from professing Christians. I 100% "disagree" with those committing such. That said, just because I disagree with those who cause harm, it does not place me into a category of "fear", no more than you are afraid of me. So, might we have honest discussion, even knowing that often we will "disagree".
This phrase is used often in our
lives, but the accuracy of it could well be questioned. That said, though not
meant to indicate every single day, still the idea is that often we remember. And
that is the truth in regards to how frequently I’m reminded of my mother.
Mom's HS Grad
I was thirty years old, when my
mother, but forty-seven, died of cancer. Now thirty years later, at sixty years
of age, the memory of this great lady has yet to fade. Always on the
anniversary of her birthday, April Fools Day, and that of her death, these are times
when she is forefront in my thoughts. Then scattered throughout the year are a
picture, a story, a fragrance or a song … especially The Big Bopper’s ‘Chantilly
Lace’, or anything with Elvis, that brings Elizabeth Ann Jopp to mind.
There are many things that I
believe that she would have loved to be part of. Seeing what her children have
done with their lives. And likewise the lives of her grand and
great-grandchildren. To have had continued relationship with Karen and the spouses
of her other children. These are but a few of the ways in which she would have continued to connect and make an impact in the lives of others. And...what would have been her new hobbies? How many
graduations and weddings would she have attended? How would our relationship have grown over the years? So many questions, forever unanswered.
It’s hard to even imagine that today, the 25th of May, is actually thirty
years from the moment of her last breath. On Memorial Day myself, along with
other motorcycle buddies, will venture across the Willamette Valley in honor of
our fallen loved ones. Though I’m calling it the ‘Jeffer Memorial Day Ride’, in
honor of a fallen motorcyclist friend, mom will most definitely be one that I
remember as we pay our respects at a couple cemeteries along the way.
My hope is that for you as well, that there is
not a day, that a smile is shinning upon your face as something reminds you of
one that you once loved dearly.
Elvis and daughter...what a combo! "Take my hand, let me stand, where no one stands alone". What a beautiful thing it is when we able to stand side by side with those we love...and not be alone.
What lovely family pictures and films are shown in this video. Similar old 8 and 16mm home movies were enjoyed by many of us in the 60's. And though I imagine that Lisa Marie would have loved a different ending, don't we all have that opportunity to make better on the memories that we leave behind.
And to know that one day we can go to the 'Great Known', known in the sense that there is a place that has been prepared for us, where 'The King' ... Jesus, will take us ... to His Father's house. Oh glorious day! John chapter 14... I was just about to post this when I came across the video below. What an absolute favorite was Tim Conway, who died earlier this month, and what a tribute to him in this video. "Of all the gifts you gave me, your friendship was the best. And I'll always keep you in my heart". Amen...Amen!
The page sat blank for what seemed like an hour as I
reflected on ‘what experience (s) … event (s) changed my life?’ While I was
thinking I began a search to see what others had written online. As well, I
tried to think of movies or books that I’ve seen or read.
Perhaps I have no greater experience than that of living
this life because of a woman who dug in her heals and made life work…work for
me and my three siblings. What she did, how she gave has and will forever
change my path of life and living.
As I continued pondering and thought of my own career, one
of service. In part ... due to what I believe is a gift of God…which is service. But
as my mind wandered I remembered the day driving with dad down Soledad Canyon Highway
when we became the first upon a most horrible of accidents. There was a pickup
truck with a canopy and several children inside who were a couple miles from
their destination of Magic Mountain, the amusement park. A semi-truck had not seen
them stopped at a traffic light and plowed into them. I was thirteen; they were
seven and eight year olds and would be in their early fifties today. I don’t
think of that day often, but today as I recalled that event I realized once
again just how much that very moment changed my life.
The above thoughts are a result of reading through chapter
sixteen of the book of Acts. Talking about the apostle Paul, Luke
writes, “And he came also to Derbe and to Lystra. And behold, a certain
disciple was there, named Timothy”. The passage continues to tell of Timothy’s
upbringing, and how he would join Paul through many futures adventures and
missions.
He who never walked, began to walk!
As I read this passage I couldn’t help but wonder if Timothy
had been mentioned prior to this moment? Or, had Paul previously been to this
area? We only have to go back two chapters, approximately five years of time and
we see that Paul had fled a stoning in the town of Iconium and wound up in
Lystra. It is here that Paul happens upon a “certain man” who had been lame
since birth, never having walked. And I ask, ‘Did Timothy know this man’? As
Paul was teaching, the man was listening. And I ask, ‘Was Timothy listening as
well’? Paul then gazes upon the man and sees that he has faith to be made
well. Paul then says, “STAND up on your feet”! Then Luke says, “He JUMPED up
and walked”! Don’t know about you, but just the sight of this…I’d have to say, ‘Hallelujah’!
‘Hallelujah’! And so I ask, “Was Timothy shouting ‘hallelujah’?"
So they story continues with the town folk wanting to
worship Paul and Barnabas as god’s. The crowds even bring a sacrifice in their
behalf. But Paul and Barnabas refuse this praise saying that, “We are but men,
the same nature as you”. And so…yeah, you know my question… "Was Timothy
witnessing this as well?"
Paul, left as dead in Lystra
Well the crowds, you know crowds…they turn on Paul. They could have simply rushed Paul and his associates out of town, but no,
that would be to kind, to easy. No, the crowds in turn begin to stone Paul;
they stone him to the extent that it appears that Paul is dead. And once again, "Was Timothy watching this behold before his very eyes?" To be presumed or
appear to be dead…this had to be an awful beating, an awful sight to have seen.
And Timothy, he may have been the age that I was when the semi plowed into that
pickup. It’s not a sight you soon forget. No, it’s a sight you NEVER forget.
The impact (no pun intended) changes you, who you are, where you go from that
point forward.
In a similar vane as the tomb, or to the man who was the
subject of this story, or as Paul Harvey would site, “Now for the rest of the
story”. Acts fourteen twenty continues, “While the disciples stood around him,
he arose and entered the city.” Now, wait a second! Paul…appeared…to be…dead!
He was dead! Luke doesn’t provide sufficient time to even begin to grieve in
the story. Were there minutes, maybe even an hour before Paul arose? Or
perhaps, he just arose. But if it was the prior, I could see Luke being so
excited of what just transpired that his pen could not delay ... And so, Luke was
shouting, ‘Hallelujah’! Hallelujah indeed!
If Timothy was at this scene, had he walked away after the
beating? Was he distressed that this man who had given someone from his own
town, a man who had never walked, a new lease on life? Did he hear from others
what took place after he walked away with his heart deeply grieved? Or perhaps
he saw with his own eyes Paul standing up from this death defying experience?
Either way, I must ask, “How was Timothy changed from these amazing events”?
Timothy would never, no never forget this moment.
So, five years later … “There was a certain disciple”.
Timothy…had become…a follower of not Paul, rather the one for whom Paul taught,
He in whom the tomb was left empty.
I believe that it is very possible that Timothy was a
witness to the events that day in Lystra nearly two thousand years ago, an
event that forever changed how he lived. Sure he was raised in a ‘God-fearing’
home, but as we all too often have seen, that is not enough. Timothy
experienced something that made him a disciple.
You and I … we may never have this kind of experience, but
the same One who left the tomb empty … the same One who empowered Paul the
ability to give this man a new ‘walk’ on life (pun intended!), is the One who
can change you forever.
From this blog my hope is to continue to pursue that
direction that Timothy took. I want to follow his steps and the instruction
that Paul would give while writing two letters to one he called ‘son’. How many
blogs and how often will the life of Timothy find their way into this blog? Don’t
know! I just know that I get excited when I think about what Timothy, a young
man, a boy, might have experienced that day and how that experience forever CHANGED
the entire course of his life.
No ‘April Fools’ here, I read
that the 2014 Tax Code had 73,954 pages. Apparently, our CPA hasn’t read them
all. Just saying 😊
So, if there wasn’t enough
craziness to prove once again why I made an edit to one of my key ‘life
mantra’s’, our ‘not-so-friend’ IRS, has provided one more. First my mantra was:
“Simplicity, Flexibility and Availability”. That mantra later was changed to:
“Simplicity (complexity happens), Flexibility and Availability”. Maybe it’s
‘too’ obvious to not expect that ‘IRS’ and ‘Complexity’ are often synonyms.
'Taxable Amount' ... same as 'Gross Distribution'
The year 2019 is the fourth year
that we’ve utilized part of the 2006 ‘Pension Protection Act’, that is
particular to “Public Safety Officers”. (See page 18 of the 'Summary of the Pension Protection Act of 2006' and 'Distributions to Public Safety Officers). Those included within this cadre are, “Law
enforcement officer, firefighter, chaplain, or a member of a rescue squad or ambulance
crew”.
The PPA allows a member to draw
up to $3,000 from an eligible retirement plan and to be used toward medical
expenses “tax free”. For myself I use our 457. For the years 2016 and 2017 I made
distributions for both the PPA and for additional expenses. But in 2018 we I only made a draw for the $3,000 PSO distribution. So you can imagine my surprise when I looked at our
1099-R from our financial institution for all three years, and see that line 1 ‘Gross Distribution’
and line 2a ‘Taxable Amount’ are identical. So the initial obvious thought
was that our 1099-R was completed incorrectly by the company. Oh no, that would
be to easy. No, in fact this is the method in which the IRS has set this up.
How do I know this? I’m glad you
asked. Go to the ‘Instructions for Forms 1099-R’ and scroll down to ‘Box 2a
Taxable Amount’. There you find that the 1099-R is NOT to reduce the ‘$3,000
exclusion’. Common sense says, “This would be a great place to reduce an amount
that you’re not going to be required to pay taxes on. For it says, “Taxable
Amount”, but no, again this would be to easy.”
So Rick, what’s the BOTTOM LINE?
When you make a draw from your financial institution, they do not withhold taxes. But, when you receive your 1099-R the $3,000 IS included in
both your ‘Gross distribution’ and ‘Taxable amount’. So…in order to not pay
taxes YOU MUST reduce the ‘Taxable
amount’ somewhere. And our friend the IRS has decided that in 2017 and prior
that you would make this distinction on Line 16 of Form 1040, ‘Pensions and
annuities’. In 2018 the line is changed to ‘4’ and called, ‘IRA’s, pensions,
and annuities’. As stated in Publication 575, not to be mistaken with Publication
757 (how to pass a kidney stone tax-free), page 6 says, “reduce the amount ($3,000) on Form
1040, line 4b”. Then you add, “PSO” adjacent and walla, you’re done.
Seriously, how difficult was that?
Honestly, I’m pretty sure that the IRS has been smoking something funny for much longer than it has been allowed in Oregon. Totally dude!
Reduce '4a' by $3,000 place into '4b' and write 'PSO' to the left
Anyway, it’s just possible that
your CPA is not aware of the above information. Please let them (and our fellow PSO's) know, make your
appropriate amendments, save some taxes and … have yourself a skinny salted caramel latte without
cream.
To most, seeing someone with
their face stuck into one’s baseball mitt would just be down right silly. But,
for a twelve-year-old boy, the smell from the leather of the glove and that of the
ball, well, it was just heavenly. Add to these the warmth of the California
sunshine, the brilliant blue sky and diving into the lush green grass, nothing, no nothing else came close to
perfection in this boy’s mind.
The 'Hall of Famer'
It was 1970, beginning what was
my third year of playing baseball, my first as a Dodger. Seriously, Los
Angeles, baseball, Dodger…perhaps you can’t imagine the thrill that this twelve-year-old
was experiencing. Though both the great Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale had just
recently retired, still there was Hall of Famer Don Sutton on the mound, Wes
Parker at first base (Steve Garvey, soon to be the starter), or my favorite, Willie Davis
in centerfield. It was a time that, well, I knew baseball like the back of my
hand. No, better than the back of my hand.
I would go on to play more than
200 hundred games during those childhood and youth years. I would have even missed
meals just to get into a game. I imagine that there were times when I questioned
where he was, but typically, just playing was worth him not showing up. To my
dad’s credit, other than my ‘Babe Dahlgren’ story, which I shared in a post called,
‘Baseball and the Babe’, that Spring afternoon game at Dodger Stadium stands
out as the greatest.
The Dodgers had just returned
from Vero Beach, where they played their preseason games. They had one more
game before the season began. It was against our own College hero’s, the USC
Trojans. Both teams had three championships over the past decade, and the
future looked bright.
'Man Wall' with Baseball Memoirs
Seriously, the only part of the
game that I recall, was when the Dodgers took the field for warmups. The
infielders were warming up in make-believe style. That is, they didn’t have a
ball. They pretended to throw the ball on the ground and in the air, making
great throws and leaps in order to keep the ball in play.
My 'Dodger' Team
On this particular afternoon … an
amazing beautiful day, at Dodger Stadium, playing the Trojans, with my dad
sitting next to me. Memories.....they just don’t get much better.
Fathers...you, we have a great opportunity to make lasting impressions upon our sons. My encouragement, make this your life's goal. Paul says, "Fathers, bring your children up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord." Ephesians 6:4
It always seemed like it was ‘just a matter of time’ before
my journey would return me to San Luis Rio Colorado. Over the past four years
that reality has been more than an itch, it has become a determination. And
that determination came to fruition in February of 2019
After two deployments with Team Rubicon in Southern
California, I continued south through the border at Algodones and then the
short distance onward to San Luis.
In preparation for this trip I had decided on three primary
goals. One, for it to be a trip of Spanish immersion. Two, to bring baseball
equipment, coaching baseball clinics. And three, well three is whatever or
however the Lord might direct.
Angel & Luis - an hour before my departure
So why San Luis? For five years between 1998 and 2002 I had
the privilege to join and co-lead teams, mainly composed of youth, to this city
about the size of Salem, Oregon. During those years we were able to accomplish
many projects including VBS, and building a church, named Betania, as well as a few homes. Typically we would arrive on Sunday afternoon, with our building supplies not far behind. Though in the year 2000, we never saw them until Tuesday
afternoon. So, the obvious question was, what do we do now?
With the Vega Family - 2002
A key goal for Jon and I during those years was ‘relationships’.
It would be one thing to build a home, but without building relationships in
the process, well, would we not be missing the point. One such relationship was
with the Vega family. Heriberto, Gudelia and their six beautiful children had already
a special place in my heart. So, it was natural to ask Heriberto if there was
anything that needed repair or that we could assist with on their home. His
reply, priceless! “No necesito nada, yo tengo mi salud, mi familia y
Jesuscristo es mi salvador”. That is, “I don’t need anything, I have my health,
my family and Jesus Christ is my savior”.
Heriberto & Gudelia y Nietos
The following two mornings, with our supplies still delayed,
I would ask Heriberto the same question and he would give the same response.
Finally, late Tuesday morning I decided to attempt one more time. This time he
relented. Melody, one of our youth, and I went over in his Ford Bronco. What
happened next has never left my memory. Might I just say that I was glad that I
was wearing dark sunglasses as his quote echoed in my head. His simple and
humble life overwhelmed me. Right then I mentioned that I would love to build
him a house one day. To which he repeated, “No necesito nada, yo tengo mi
salud, mi familia y jesuscristo es mi Salvador”. In March of 2002 we were able
to fulfill that commitment.
Moving the story forward to February 2nd, 2019, I
went to the most logical location in which I assumed might be just the place to
set up my tent. You see, I had the baseball gear, I had my own clothing, I even
brought some food for just in case. But, where I might actually stay, and what, exactly might I be doing, these things I did not know.
Sister Ylda Praying For a Worker
Before my arrival to Betania I decided that I better replace
my SIM Card with my Mexico card and charge it with minutes at an Oxxo (the main
‘7-Eleven’ store of Mexico). There was but one small problem. I could not get
the SIM Card out of the phone. After nearly an hour, three stores in an attempt
to find even a paperclip, finally a cashier asked if an earring might work. “Absolutely,
I said!”. With the card exchanged and the phone charged I continued the few
blocks to the Betania/Bethany church.
Now nearing dusk and no one at Betania, I decided to drive
past Templo Berea. How this church even becomes part of the equation is quite providential.
You see almost four years to the day I concluded a three month stay in Jalisco Mexico
with my last night in San Luis. Through a series of events I was able
to find my sister-in-the-Lord, Ylda, pastora of Betania. That late afternoon in
February 2015, we drove to a couple of the comedor’s (food kitchen’s) that she
had set up. And finally to Templo Berea, where I would enjoy a brief visit with
the Vega’s outside of the church before they went in for the evening service.
Now one picture you must set in your mind before I continue
is that most of the homes and churches in this area are guarded by fence and
locks. Betania had such and Templo Berea the same. As I arrived a man and women
had just stepped out of their house adjacent to the church. Now recall, that I
would have driven past about an hour prior if I had been able to exchange the
SIM cards. And with the fence, well, it's unlikely that I would have even stopped.
Chuy, Andrea, Lupe & Family
I stepped out of my Nissan pickup and walked up to the fence
saying, “Hola, me llamo Ricardo Williams yo soy un amigo de Heriberto y Gudelia
Vega”. That is, hello my name is Rick Williams, I am a friend of the Vega’s.
Before I could say anything further, the wife (Andrea) motioned to her husband
(Lupe) and said something. Being more than thirty feet away I could not hear
what she had said. Andrea then continue to her van and was off to
run an errand and Lupe escorted me to a lovely
studio apartment, with a full bathroom, on the second story of the church.
Baseball Clinic #1
What had just happened? How had I gone from most likely setting
up camp in my tent to sleeping in a ‘castle’. Well, as providence would have
it, Andrea is the baby sister of Gudelia. She had heard the story of this gringo
who built a house for her sister over a decade and a half ago. And she even seen my picture
many times. You see, in the living room of the Vega’s home are placed six
pictures. Five of their family and one of yours truly in front of their newly
built home in 2002 with the entire Vega family.
Orfanato with Abraham & Alan
Sobrina Rita, Miguelito & Players
Oh, and Templo Berea, just happens to be a block and half
from the only baseball field in the area. Over the next two weeks I would have
the privilege to have some Spanish immersion, enjoy six baseball clinics, come to build a new and lasting friendship with many, most notably Lupe, Andrea and Chuy and
that “whatever or however the Lord might direct”, well, it was changed to “Por
amor de Cristo”. That is, “For the sake of Christ” in our English bible. Found
in Philippians 3:7 where Paul says, “I count all things to be loss for the sake
of Christ”.
Bethel Orfanato
And if you need more evidence of our Creator’s providence,
perhaps being in San Luis exactly at the time that they had planned to visit
and assist one of the local orphanages. Or perhaps the discovery of the ‘Algodoneros’
baseball caps. Having searched three different times at multiple stores and
coming up empty handed, I went out one last time. While nearing downtown, I
could see in the distance the light poles of their stadium. As I approached there
was one remaining player, who had just placed his gear into his truck, and was about to head home. Speaking in Spanish I asked if he might perhaps know where I could find baseball hats for the local team. In perfect English he says, “We can talk
in English if you’d like”. And, “Yes, I know exactly where you might purchase
them”.
All With Algodoneros Hats & Evelyn With Her New Uniform
So, a trip, in planning for more than three years had just been
concluded. The lessons learned, much more than what one blog can hold. Suffice
it to say, travel slowly, listen deeply and wait for much more than one can
even imagine.
Ephesians 3:20-21 - Now to him who is able to do far more
abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within
us, to him be glory in the church
and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. The song was one that I heard while waiting the three hours in line to enter back into the United States of America. 'Gracefully Broken' sung by Matt Redman and Tasha Cobbs Leonard.Powerful!
When I say two words … ‘Great memories’
… what comes to mind? And if I were to add one particular factor, that is your earliest childhood
memory, what would it be? Perhaps as interesting is what is the trigger that ranks
this as one of those great memories? For me, it's all about Orange Nesbitt’s.
Many were the visits to the southwest corner of my father’s home
state of Iowa, most to good ole Red Oak, but this memory … it takes place in
the spot on the road called ‘Hastings'. I challenge you to find it on the map.
Although I easily recall the two or three trips to Iowa
aboard my grandfather's semi, at least one flight, one via car and perhaps even
one via train. Whether it was one of these or another, I have not a clue to how
I arrived in Hasting on this visit.
If my memory serves me right I stayed with my uncle Jimmy for
perhaps three or four nights. It was circa the summer of 1966, with baseball
and Sandy Koufax becoming an integral part of this lads life. Shortly after
arriving Jimmy took me around the town so I could be familiar with all six or
seven streets. Then we walked up to the town center to the store, the post
office and the pool hall … oh, of course these were all one and the same. He introduced
me to the man behind the counter of the store, no not Oz … most likely the
owner. And he told him that he could add whatever his nephew Ricky
purchased onto his tab.
Jimmy 1958
The following days were filled with new buddies, a new game
called billiards and a childhood favorite Orange Nesbitt’s. On my last visit to
downtown Hastings, accompanied by Jimmy, he asked the man behind the counter
what the amount was on his nephew's tab. Now remember a soda in the mid sixties
was but a mere 10 cents and a candy bar even less at 5 cents. I would imagine that
Jimmy was likely expecting that I might have had two, maybe three soda pop's
per day and perhaps the same amount of candy bars and hence a tab somewhere
between one to two dollars would be reasonable. What my uncle's initial
response was, I don't know, but looking back I now realize that the ten dollar
plus tab must have been quite the surprise.
Jimmy 2010
Apparently somewhere I had heard the phrase, “Give them
another round on me”. I'm thinking that I made some new found buddies quite happy,
at least for a couple days during that summer of 66'. The man behind the
counter, well he was making a little extra on Jimmy and I'm sure smiling all
the way to the proverbial bank. And uncle Jimmy, he just grinned, paid his
nephew Ricky's tab and learned not to be fooled by the savviness of an eight
year old boy.
There will
likely be some in my family whose remembrance of Jimmy is much less favorable. And
I totally understand. You see, my uncle Jimmy would become, or was likely even
then, an alcoholic. Many lives were hurt in his wake. I know that my own father
tried to assist a couple times with jobs, that in turn he would once again lose
because of the bottle.
September of 2010 brought two
big surprises in my life. One, the sudden death of my father. Two, while
notifying family and friends of his death, to discover that uncle Jimmy, whom I
presumed dead since the 90's, was actually alive. Later that month I would call
and talk to Jimmy. Living with his wife
in a shelter, Jimmy told me that he had recently received his twenty year
sobriety pin. Shame and many burnt bridges had kept him from reconnecting with
family. We enjoyed a couple laughs, including the mention of that brief visit
and his nephew having quite the affinity for Orange Nesbitt's.
Jimmy died the summer of
2017. I imagine that he was sober until the end. For me, he is often remembered
when drinking an orange soda, if only it could be a Nesbitt’s 😃
