Longtime friend Dan Danbom—once the funniest corporate speechwriter I knew, now the funniest bookstore owner I know—lost his beloved older brother Dave back in June. Here were the opening lines of his eulogy:
My name is Dan Danbom. I’m Dave’s brother. I knew Dave for 75 years ten months, three weeks and five days, so I consider myself qualified to share some of the things I know about him.
As I thought about what to say today, it became obvious to me that Dave and I were lucky to have lived as long as we did.
I say that because as kids, we had easy access to firecrackers, knives, and BB guns. We had peashooters. We had a water-propelled rocket. I had a bullwhip, and Dave once had a blowgun—a blowgun! We rode bikes without helmets. We took turns throwing dirt clods at each other in the summer and pelted each other with snowballs in the winter. We once nearly started a fire in our house playing with a candle. And without even wearing gloves or eye protection, we melted lead over fires we started in our backyard.
All these things we did before Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy declared them safe for children.
Sorry for your loss, Dan. Glad you’re still here, in body and—clearly—in spirit.
Dan and Dave, left to right.
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