My friend Ira had his photo in the NY Times today, with his old friends.
There's more...
I bought a copy of the Times to take over to him. He hasn't been getting out to our favorite cafe very often lately. From a daily regular at 7:30 AM sharp, year after year, he's become a very occasional visitor. At 85, he's increasingly unsteady in his walker.
He reads 18 hours a day in his book-lined apartment. Today he recommended The Whisperers: Private Life in Stalin's Russia by "a young man who's so good it's hard to believe he's a young man."
His attitude toward that other young man who's so often in the news these days seems to be, wait and see. He's not too much impressed yet. But Ira is a famous cynic. I once said to him (after something he said about someone I admired) "Ira, you have a sharp word for everyone who isn't Gandhi or Martin Luther King."
He shot back: "I have a sharp word for Martin, I just won't tell you what it is." Nobody escapes. Well, maybe Gandhi. He didn't actually know him personally, you see. He knew everybody else who stood for non-violence. He will admit MLK was the best of the them, just not perfect.