Harley Davidson Beer

What a street name: "Loser."

Loser slept in his van on the edge of downtown, with a 9 inch toad sticker on the seat next to him.

Homeless guys would walk by with their Operation Nightwatch issued blankets. He'd buy the blanket for $2-3. So he wasn't very cold at night, even in the winter.

When he got hired as an apartment manager (!) he kept in touch with me. His gruff Vietnam vet exterior was hiding a heart of gold.

His parting gift to me was a can of Harley Davidson Motorcycle beer. I put this in my lower desk drawer, imaging some dramatic moment (like retirement) when I could ceremoniously pour the thing out.

On really down days I would open my lower drawer and look at it. It rattled around with the odds and ends of tools and hardware that I would periodically use for emergency repairs on our building.

Then I made an amazing discovery. Something in the drawer had punctured the can, the beer had completely drained out and then dried. What a smell!

Not an omen, right?