Looking back, I recall two occasions where Blair and I got into
such interesting discussions, they literally went on for hours. He took me to dinner one evening at Taylor's
Steakhouse, where we often went to celebrate our friends' birthdays. On this particular night we weren't
celebrating anything special, we just wanted to see each other. The time flew and suddenly we were aware that
we were the only diners in the place. In
fact, the busboys were using those quiet non-electric vacuum cleaners. Earlier, the valet had brought Blair's keys
to him because his shift was ending. And
still we kept talking. It was like
"My Dinner With Andre."
Another night, I called Blair and we had so much to catch up on, we were
on the phone for six hours! (I think we
had just one 15-minute intermission.)
Blair's parties were outstanding, filled with interesting people. After accompanying me to one gathering, a
girlfriend of mine nicknamed him "Tigger" for the way he kept
everyone entertained. One night, Blair
invited a few of us over and then piled everyone into his car. He wouldn't tell us where we were going,
saying only that it was a surprise. We
ended up at Hollywood Star Lanes to go bowling! We were having such a good time, strangers came over to
meet us.
I am terribly sorry to have lost this enchanting friend, but I feel
fortunate to have known him all these years.
He was truly irreplaceable. He
never ended a phone call without saying "I love you," because, as he
told me many times, "you never know. . .."
There's a famous quote from Jack Kerouac which reminds me of
Blair:
"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are
mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same
time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn,
like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding across the stars."
Finally, here's a song I heard recently which made me
think of him: "Time" by the Alan Parsons Project.
