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I'd like to take this moment to honor my friend Dick. Dick was a 1.14, a brother, a friend, a soldier. Me and Dick had been best friends for ages, maybe 3 or 4 years in total not including the summer wher I'd been playing Medium thicknesses instead, but still he was there for me, even when I not for him. Show after show we had played together, middle school chapels, church services, jazz concerts, and night clubs. Dick was a good man, one who sacrificed his life for a greater cause, who served tirelessly with full knowledge that his hard work would gain him no recognition, no credibility. From studio to stage Dick was a servant, devoting his life to a higher cause than himself, Music. That's how He died. It was November 22, 2016, and I was warming for my first open mic night, we were practicing in the Van, and that's when it happened. It was my fault. I could have stopped it. Carelessly ignoring the movements of my fingers, the careless klutz I am, my fingers loosened and Dick took a hard fall to the old floor of the Van. He, being a hard skinned fellow, bounced, but he bounced too far, over out of my reach and through an air conditioning vent into the depths of that beast of a vehicle, never to be seen again. I still can't believe you're gone, Dick. The space where you once were, always by my side, in my pocket, it's now empty and awkward, a constant reminder that you're gone. But you wouldn't want me to mourn forever, but to move on. My fingers long for you, but they will have to get used to another 1.14. They will miss your contour and curves, how your tip wasn't as tip-like as the brand new 1.14s. Its so sad that I must now think of you as lost love. Lost to the internal organs of my Grandma's Chevy Van, but I must recognize that the best way to honor you is to love someone else, find new love in a new 1.14. I cannot express adequately my gratitude for your brotherhood and every other way you have served me. I MISS YOU. <3 - Jake