From: Lucinda Simmons, Dallas, TX

I've known TMo since 1982 or thereabouts. I loved him like a brother, he was always good for a laugh and a big, warm hug. I was lucky to see him at Sean Hopper's wedding shower a couple of months ago. We probably talked for 45 minutes uninterrupted, most of it was him raving about his new oxygen doo-dad that enabled him to get the best sleep of his life. His big brown teddy bear eyes flashed as he extolled the many virtues of oxygen. 

"OXYGEN! Ha ha ha!" he laughed, rolling his head back and holding his tummy with both hands. It's like he'd recently discovered breathing and loved it.

But that man could not do the Bunny Hop worth a shit. 

We were in Deep Ellum one night in the early '90s, walking back to my car. Someone had the bright idea to Bunny Hop down Elm Street (probably me). I was to his left and, between the two of us, we pretty much spanned the entire sidewalk. 

Dun-dun-dundun-dun-dun  (kick to the left)
Dun dun dun dun (and now to the right)
Dun-dun-dundun-dun-dun (jump up, jump back)
HOP HOP HOP

Now here's where it went horribly wrong.

I don't know who taught TMo the Bunny Hop, but where you're supposed to hop three times forward, he kicked his leg out to the left instead. Which essentially sent me flying over it, landing on my elbow on the sidewalk, chipping the bone. I couldn't rest my elbow on anything for two months and never passed up an opportunity to razz him on his lacking Bunny Hop skills.