Jarle’s would-be 72nd birthday.

72 years ago, a man was born to a field priest and his wife in Norway. Little did they know that years later, I’d be placing flowers on his grave.

Jarle was a great man. We didn’t always see eye-to-eye on things —Less so when I was younger, but as I aged (and matured) we got along better. We were doing pretty well the last time we saw each other.

Today would have been his 72nd birthday. He made it to 70 and three quarters. He lived those years well, though was fighting some illness throughout the last few years.

I don’t really know what else to say than that I want to honor his memory. He was a great man, and the world is worse off for him not being around.

Riding my motorcycle in Austin, Summer 2011