Joy.
But it was a life, and as I hope I've illustrated well enough, it was a full life. Full of animation, consequence, humor, experience, and the sort of things that make a person more human.
Danny stood, sat, and lounged in an existence that few of us would be able to bear ourselves. Rather than just live it out, though, he allowed us to watch in for a brief time, and he made sure we had fun doing so.
He also made sure he enjoyed life. Despite everything, I really believe he enjoyed himself. His videos are full of tone and subtleties suggesting as much, but there are a couple of overt examples I put together below.
I'll always remember him sitting down in his recliner. He was in his forties, but he didn't seem that way. His health was less than great, but he always had that spark about him. Sometimes picking out a person's subtleties help you appreciate him or her as perhaps you didn't before. That Tony the Tiger shirt that he evidently loved and wore almost daily. The neck brace that he didn't really seem to need. The Killian's he loved to drink. The cereal he loved to eat. The old reruns and tapes of shows a decade or two old that he loved to watch. The well-kept, humble, nondescript home in which he lived with his son. The "World's Greatest Dad" mug he sipped from. His spirited yells, his frustrated inside voice, and that laugh of his that made everyone laugh along.
God damn, I miss him.