A month ago in Copenhagen while wandering the streets alone I ran into Preston. He had just flown in from Scotland and was trying to meet up with everyone. No charged phone, no directions, no problem. I had just been with the crew and pointed him in the direction but first he wanted to tell me of the times he had and ask where I had been. He smirked when he told me that he and "the boys" in Scotland got on it! He knew I'd find joy in that. They were camping on the shores of the Loch Ness looking for places to skate. I asked how the camping went and his face lit up. "The Loch Ness is so chilly that all you have to do is stick your brew in there and it's icy cold all day!". It wasn't, "the lake was freezing" or "we had to camp in mud with not much around". People often try to make lemons into lemonade. Well, Preston never even saw the lemons in the first place. Out on the road, guys tend to look for the hot club or cabaret spot, but PStone couldn't find more happiness being around a camp fire cooking up for the boys. To some he was PStone, to some Big Dog, to a lot Preston but to his 2 boys he was Papa. Rest easy My Guy.