Nonsense

Our friend and colleague Alibi account executive Greg Medara and his wife, Lauda, died in a car accident this weekend.

In the face of this kind of stupid, asinine absurdity, there's really nothing to say. You can try to wrap your head around something that's inherently nonsensical, but what's the use? Writers write to give chaos a little structure—even if it's just an imaginary structure and the illusion doesn't last nearly long enough—but when something like this happens the wisest reaction might simply be appalled, prolonged silence.

I'm not wise, though, so all I can do is babble.

So, thanks for the Cuban cigar, Greg. (And those other cigars, too.) Thanks for patiently explaining to me the nitty-gritty of the advertising world. (I know I'm slow sometimes.) Thanks for yanking me back down to earth, again and again, when I was floating up into the clouds of editorial la-la land. Thanks for classing up this joint. (Lord knows it needed some classing up.) Thanks for the jokes. Thanks for the drinks. We'll miss you, man. Honestly, it won't be the same without you.