the inevitable march toward the end - one of the Fishhead boys, Joe, claimed before "his time" whenever that is. I remember walking a very drunk Joe around and then watching him go thru a fire pit in the side yard at the Fishhead mansion. He spoke to the street signs and named his youngest Rockin' Bob. His huge form was gentle and his demeanor, when sober, quietly funny. His wife Jeanne could put up with all his craziness, mostly because her mother Marguerite, a former nun, had seen enough craziness in her lifetime for many subsequent generations. It's appropriate that he left his mark on the web at mylifeisbeer.com Home of Fat Tire Amber Ale.

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