A tribute.

He harbored no affection for the hours from 11 am to 5 pm. Those languid, expansive stretches of afternoons, he found them drearily oppressive. It was the early hours of the day, the twilight evenings, and the hush of nights that spoke to his spirit.

His relationship with fruits was selective at best; the tropical allure of mango and papaya winning his favor, while others largely ignored. His preferred spot in a car was the backseat, a passive observer rather than a driver or co-pilot.

A nocturnal creature, his sustenance was sought between the setting of the sun and the dead of night, dismissing the conventional times for breakfast and lunch.

He held a paradoxical relationship with smoking, hating and loving it in equal measure. He savored the taste of coffee, found solace in the sweetness of chocolate.

Exercise, particularly the regimented sort found in gyms, was a necessary evil. The discomfort it brough always deterred him.

His faith, or lack thereof, lay not in any deity. Forgive him God, but he found it utterly improbable that you dwell in the vast cosmos.

His heart danced to the rhythm of German electronica, a passion most pronounced. But, alas, recounting these idiosyncrasies grows tiresome. We shall continue this homage another time. For time, we believe, is still on our side.

A word for those who remain, he wishes for no grave, no tombstone to mark his journey. Cremation is his choice – a transformation by fire. His ashes, rather than laying dormant in some melancholy cemetery, ought to be scattered to the winds. Graveyards, with their somber silence and the gravity of mortality they harbor, unsettled him deeply.

Stacking the departed in one place, he found it rather morose.

Thus, ends this segment of the eulogy, until we find the words and time to honor him further.