Augusto Ferri was born 18/2/1964. He died 9450 days later, the 2/1/1990 if this program counts days correctly. He spent many of these almost 10000 days with me, laughing, eating, drinking, and kissing, driving motobike, ultralight aircraft, sail boat. We also spent a lot of days quarreling with each other about upcoming divergent political ideas, being mischievous and faithless as young and less young people can be. I remember clearly our first date, sometimes in late 1979, the two of us running in the military exercise paths of paratroopers of Fologore in Pisa, clothes dirty wth slime, faces aching for too much laughing, metallic voices in the background shouting “Folgore!”. I do not write rest in peace, Augusto. You never rest in peace, you are alive with me and many other friends for almost three decades now, since you left us. We still laugh at your jokes (Ah Pisciarooooo!) and we try to be brave in life.