Slick Lawson, a nationally-noted photographer and, well, character (as we southerners describe the undescribable), passed away Saturday and was celebrated in a memorial service yesterday. Wherever I travel in the small world of magazine publishing, when I say I’m from Nashville, folks often ask me if I know Slick. That’s an easy one: everyone knew Slick. His work appeared in some of our publications, and his visits to our office were always eventful. Indeed, wherever Slick happened to be was typcially eventful. He lived large.