The other night at the Red Sox game-
Me (returning to my seat): I think that old guy over there is lost- when I walked past him he was describing where he was to someone on his cell phone. He sounded kind of confused.
Big A: That's Brian Dennehy.
Me: No it's not- Brian Dennehy isn't even alive anymore.
(Someone from the crowd shouts "Hey Brian!" Brian Dennehy looks up at him, smiles and waves.)
At brunch with friends the other day-
Steve: Yeah- I just read somewhere that Mel Brooks died recently. I think it was at the end of June.
The rest of us: No way! That's so sad! He was the best! I can't believe I didn't hear about that!
(A long discussion follows about his films, which ones were our favorites, best lines from Blazing Saddles, how there's no one else left like him, etc.)
Steve: Oh, wait.... maybe it was his birthday. Yes- that's right. It was his birthday.
Today, on the way home from Boston, passing a big old car with the windows down, driven by an older man with thick white hair and big glasses-
Big A: Is Andy Warhol dead?
Me: Yes.
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