Irony Stalks My Heroes Night and Day

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Don, the 72 year-old
homeless RV-dwelling
philosopher at the
Westside veterans


Love doesn’t make the world go ’round. Love is what makes the ride
—Franklin P. Jones

Pray that success will not come any faster than you are able to endure
—Elbert Hubbard

It’s better if bad news comes to you from a friend. “Right Angle” Al told me today: one of my heroes has died.

Right Angle was in the neighborhood today, working one of his scams, one of his many angles, which prospers enough to afford him the luxury of not being bogged down by anything as mundane as a regular job.

He had picked me up at the veterans’ shelter to take me to the Arby’s on Manchester for the six-month anniversary of our brush with death there. Six months ago, a confused octogenerian almost killed us by driving through the Arby’s we were dining in, all the way through: up the curb, through the outer wall, into the kitchen.

So Al and I were celebrating our brush with death anniversary when he mentioned the untimely passing of my hero, Spalding Gray. Here’s an article about it. Notice the gruesome irony in the headline

“Famously morose humorist found dead in East River
Spalding Gray was missing for 2 months”

The other irony was that Spalding interruped his last production, “Interrupted Life”, to throw himself off a bridge. Spalding, you should’ve come to me. I would’ve introduced you to my 72 year-old toothless RV-dwelling homeless attorney, who has discovered the secret to happiness . . . and he discovered it on the street.

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