.I assume that everybody's already heard that Arthur C. Clarke died yesterday. I think he's the last of the giants from that generation which created modern science fiction. There will be no lack of overviews and appreciations so in the interest of keeping things light, I thought I'd share my extremely peripheral brush with greatness. If it were any less significant, there wouldn't be anything to relate.
Back in 2001, my friends Robert Walters and Tess Kissinger curated a show of space art for the Bruce Museum in Greenwich, Connecticut. Fabulous stuff. Marianne and I were invited to the opening and to the party afterwards, held in the house of one of the museum staff. It was a good party. At one point, looking for a soda, I wandered into the kitchen and discovered Keir Dullea there, on his cell phone, talking to Sri Lanka. "Hello, Arthur?" he said. "Guess where I'm calling from."
Oh, and for a second there, I was standing at the delocalized center of the world!
And, taking care of business . . .
I'll be appearing at the KGB Bar tonight, along with David Keck. Pleasingly quirky surroundings, two brief readings, and the chance to rub shoulders with the SF glitterati of NYC. If you live in the city, you should consider it. A pleasant alternative to a night of television.