And We Bid You Goodnight, Goodnight, Goodnight.

Most of you that know me know that, unlike our friend Greg, I am generally a quiet, private person so when Laura called and asked me to say a few words today about Greg I went into a state of panic and I spent the next hour thinking of excuses of how I could get out of it. Then I realized all of the things Greg, Laura, Shannon, Mary and Melvin have done for me and meant in my life and realized what an honor it would be to express what Greg meant to me, and I suspect many others here today. In reality, there is really nothing more to say than just taking a look around this room at all of the people that Greg touched. I was telling my wife, Helen, or as Greg called her, Brick Head, that she would have to send out Gift Certificates to get this many people to show up at my funeral. Which leads me to yet another fond memory of Greg. Greg spoke in codes when talking about our friends. When he mentioned Boo Boo, Too Short, Boy Wonder, Big Perm, Da’ Fruzz, Bear Cat, Edge, Yellow Foot, and the list goes on and on, I knew exactly who he was talking about. It is even weird for me to stand here today and refer to him as Greg instead of Bucket Head, Bowser, Q-Tip, or Smed.

Greg and I first met on a javelina-hunting trip around a campfire in Wilcox, Arizona. (Picture high desert chaparral - Bonanza - Lonesome Dove) - besides the singing cowboy Tom Mix's homestead. We were sitting in the desert that night with the stars lit up like roman candles watching thunderheads moving in over the big sky. First it started to rain, then it hailed - lots - before you knew it everything, as far as the eye could see, was covered in white. Initially, there were 10 of us around the fire. One by one people peeled off for the night as the weather worsened. Greg didn't move, neither did I. But finally my butt got wet and here is where I first learned about his Texan wisdom. He told me "Don't spare no change on rain gear, Jeffrey." (I retired my rain gear the next week). Thanks Greg.