Yep, I owe that honor to my uncle. Long story short, he was brilliant, which was, in fact, most of his problem. He had a Phd in literature and all of his professors touted him as one of the most intelligent students they had ever taught. However, he never quite fit into the the normal societal niches that most of use eventually find (ironically, partly because of that big brain of his). He did, however, find his niche in life as a drunkard, part time pool hustler, and general nare-do-well.
He died in a car wreck on Christmas day in the early 80’s. He was a passenger, so it wasn’t a suicide. However, he knew he was going to die (one attribute of that brain of his was he was quite psychic, to the point of being able to tell you with astounding accuracy the order of cards in a deck as you turned them over, but ironically it seemed to work best when he had a blood alcohol level that would kill your average elephant). He gave me his guitar the night before.
He remains an enigmatic example for me, both positive and negative.