Whenever a creative genius dies, I am reminded of what a former boss told me that his brother said upon learning of the death of John Lennon:
“Damn! Why couldn’t it have been a president or a pope or someone we could replace?”
We have a meeting every morning where I work where we go over what needs to get done and afterwards, my boss asks if anyone has anything they need to contribute. I suggested that in honor of G.C.’s death we observe a moment of obscenity, to which Dan, a coworker, replied with the Seven Dirty Words–to which I said “Amen.”
Sometimes, I love my job.