Yikes, a Heartfelt Abject Apology
Everyone, so sorry - Joy Williams is fine. Jeez! I got some bad info, by way of someone who was writing a pre-obit, and was so sad I jumped the gun.
And apologies, especially, to dear Joy, and I am so happy you’re still with us, blush, bow, sorry, sorry.
Wow.
I feel like a true idiot.
Love,
George
I once had dinner with Terry Gilliam a few weeks after his obituary was accidentally published prehumously.
I asked him what it was like. He said it was funny. They listed everything that he had done. All of his accomplishments, the many awards, the great films, Monty Python, the brilliant collaborators, and that he read it and realized that they had failed to mention any of what he would consider the substance of his life; his children, his grand children, his friends, his relationships, even the mention of the work seemed to exclude the thing of the work itself. It was just a list of things.
I was a very young man, thinking only about a life in art, and inescapably depressed. 23 maybe? A decade later, I still think about it every day. That this guy, who had accomplished everything I hoped to, and was now closer to the end than the beginning, looked back on his life and told me that the things I already had were where the value lived. The movies were just things the things he’d done along the way.
The dinner ended and he got into a cab and turned to me and said, “I envy you.”
I couldn’t understand why and asked him.
“You’re right at the beginning.”
I don’t know quite why I felt compelled to share this but it changed how I thought about my life. It was a gift he gave me. I’d say that’s why. So now’s it’s all of ours.
Don’t worry, George. You have so much in the bank of goodwill. It protects you. Thank you for your ever-present, always-felt kindness.