Bob, Bob Bob.....You were our teacher, our mentor and most of all our  friend. You taught us how to write songs, how to change the world, and how to live a life worth living. You were  always there with your life force in all its blazing glory. You could express in ten words and three chords what most people couldn't say in a lifetime .  You could find a nugget of gold in the worst of times and put a positive spin on even  the most dire situation. When our bus broke down in the middle of Colorado on our first tour, some of us talked about throwing in the towel and going home. Luckily, you were there with us. You said " Are you a  band or not? If you are, let's find a way to make it to the gig. If not, you should go home and sell insurance." We made the gig and never looked back. Where did you get that sense of humor? There was that party in Austin. When we got there, someone unscrewed the top off of a new bottle of tequila, threw the cap away and handed you the bottle. "That was a mistake" you said with a chuckle. Several hours later you entered the courtyard, nearly-empty bottle still in hand, and made your way through the crowd and jumped headlong into the pool. Did I mention that you were buck naked? Just then the hostess came out with a horrified look on her face and yelled "My God-there's a drunk biker in my pool." Without missing a beat, you looked up at her, smiled  and said "Lady, I don't even own a bike." But alas, every good party must come to an end. Your body just couldn't keep up with your spirit. You knew it was time to go. You were falling apart at the seams. Hell, you hadn't had a decent lung full of air in years. You abandoned your ramshackled frame and flew off to greener pastures on Earth Day, 2008. Very funny, Bob- it also happened to be my birthday. Let us celebrate your life and not mourn your passing. You will be with us  every gig, every party, every day, every moment. Ladies and gentlemen, Bob Childers has left the building............. Brad Piccolo, Red Dirt Rangers