Um . . . pretty much all of them. Then again, I've finally realized that everyone is insane if you just get to know them well enough.

We had Ian. He was fiftysomething, small, thin, British--which wouldn't be weird for most of you Mudcatters but stands out a bit here in Texas--, chain-smoked, and looked like a homeless person. I knew him because he used to come to the pub (we do have pubs of sorts here) on Wednesday Irish session nights and stay until the place closed at two in the morning. He didn't usually play any music but I knew that he was a pretty good guitarist. I found out later that he had once been an engineer of some kind before he burned out and started playing music and building minutely-detailed ship models instead.