David Farmer was one of the most hilarious people I’ve ever know. A Manchester soccer hooligan transplanted to Sarasota, Florida in the late 70’s, became father to my future wife. He loved me because he knew I loved his daughter, even though he thought me to be a bit of a Nancy-boy for not drinking ale or watching soccer. He was an extremely fascinating man. A cunning intellect, irresistible charm and a knack for legendary exploits that will long out-live him. My brother-in-law tells fascinating tales of shooting beer cans with an uzi in the back yard, tattooing a dot on his own forehead and chopping up furniture with an ax to make it easier to remove from the house. On the flip-side, he also was an avid botanist, computer scientist and telecommunications expert for the phone company. I wanted to do something to memorialize him so I painted this picture “gittin theeee bleedin’ ale down his neck!” However, I don’t think he’ll soon be forgotten. So many people came to pay their respects at his memorial that every inch was taken, the funeral home packed down the hall, the lobby and into the parking lock. The owner said he’d never seen anything like it. It was a send-off worthy of a Sarasota legend. Rest in peace, Dave.