Eight years ago, the guy could stand up at a meeting and people would sit a bit taller and listen to what he had to say. On the way home, he would sit comfortably in his 1955 DeSoto and grin and wave to passersby. Then, people started honking when he passed and they were anything but happy to see his vintage car. It was happening with increased regularity. He’d scream back. But then noticed that he’d get to a turn in the road and press his foot down heavy on the brake because he didn’t know which way to go. A short time later, the landlord complained that it looked like a three year old had filled out the rent check. None of the information was in the right place. His name was scrawled at the top of the check. It was random – and scary.