After all is said and done, much was said - not much was done.

He considered himself a delusions facilitator.

A comedy casualty.

A clean living Bukowski.

A self-hating Irishman.

A curator of memories.

A conduit of obscurity.

A stevedore of the imagination.

An existential error.

A purveyor of purposeful purposelessness.

A Zen pagan.

An employee of anxiety.

A factotum of failure.

A non viveur.

A foibles observer.

A snapshot of inconsequence.

He was a man who wrote some vignettes.

Prepared some vinaigrettes.

And had some regrets….