Remembering Dave Robbins, a.k.a. Ian Billings

My first meaningful exchange with Dave Robbins, our expat Brit poet, hirsute charmer and one-man wrecking crew of pretense, occurred when I was knocking around with an open bottle of wine. Ever cheeky, Robbins entreated, “Pour me a glass and I’ll defend you for life.” I did some quick math, which factored in Robbins’ deadpan…