Many was the hour I wiled away talking bollox in the café with him.
He'd only moved house a couple of days before.
He was 75 and rode around like a man processed on his 15 year old 600 Fazer.
He'd owned that bike from new and it was his pride and joy.
More of a casual acquaintance than a friend, but feeling a great loss nonetheless.
Don't know why I'm bringing it up here.
To pay some sort of tribute I suppose.
A stark reminder of how short time is, and how important it is to focus on what's important over the short time we have.
He was a grumpy old fart.
One of life's real characters.
I'll miss old Baz.
The Sunday coffee stop at the dealers will never be the same again.
Thanks for indulging me
