Sad news

 My Uncle Jack passed away a few days ago. Having beaten prostate cancer and throat cancer, he finally succumbed to kidney disease at the age of 86. 

Jack was the "baby" of his family, which, to some extent, probably explains all of the allowances that were made for him over the years. 

He served in the Air Force in the late 1950s, and later headed up the personnel department of a textile firm in North Carolina. The textile company shut down, however, and thus began Jack's career as a "self-employed businessman", in which his addiction to spending money - and he wasn't fussy; didn't have to be his, necessarily - turned him into something of a local legend of financial impropriety and mismanagement (he, himself, always found his reputation to be hugely amusing). Jack had a tremendous sense of humor, an infectious laugh and was actually a loving brother and son; his own children turned out to be remarkably successful. He separated from his wife decades ago, but they remained married. Jack said divorce was against his religion, although I imagine that it was alimony which most strongly triggered his religious objections.

Jack enjoyed his pleasures, particularly food. Once, perhaps 15 years ago, he began to feel chest pains and figured (correctly, as it turned out) that he was having a heart attack. He hadn't had breakfast, yet, though, so, driving himself to the hospital, he stopped on the way at the Do-Nut Dinette and ordered up a stack of pancakes and a side of bacon before proceeding to the emergency room.

Such was Jack's charm (and obvious lack of financial prospects), that even the IRS finally threw up its hands in despair and effectively (if unofficially) ended its pursuit of him. Jack said of his last interview, with a (no doubt) broken and defeated IRS auditor, that, as the T-man was leaving, Jack threw an arm around the man's shoulders and said, "Don't worry. I'll send you a dollar or two every now and then".

I don't believe his estate includes much in the way of assets, except for a chest-of-drawers filled with his old socks which sits on the front porch of my late grandmother's house, where Jack lived for many years (without electricity, a needless expense as he saw it).

 My father said something once that I think would serve as the perfect epitaph: "Jack would give you the shirt off his back - although he probably borrowed it from you in the first place - but he would write you enough bad checks to wallpaper your living room." 

In spite of everything, it was impossible not to like him. RIP, Jack. You have finally found a permanent refuge from the bill collectors and the tax man.

Update  One more uncle Jack story comes to mind. For awhile, he worked for a small company - I don't know what the outfit did - and he was, quite astonishingly, the treasurer. The company eventually failed, although not, to the best of my knowledge, due to anything Jack did. Anyhow, I was chatting with Old Paco in his office one day when Jack came in, laughing his head off. My father asked him what was so funny. Jack said, "I've got to put this in the mail, but I wanted to show it to you first". He handed Old Paco a check, and said, "See that? It's a check written to a collection agency drawn on the account of a bankrupt company and signed by Jack Carter!" We all laughed til we cried.