I was sitting at my table in Artists Alley signing away, which is pretty much what I was doing whenever I wasn’t on a panel or heading to or from a panel. And someone brought me copies of “Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man” to autograph.
And there was Ringo’s signature on several of the covers.
I just stared at them. It took a long tme for me to be able to pick up my marker and write my name as well.
It was the first time that I’d ever found myself looking at the autograph of a co-worker on a series who’d passed away…certainly a co-worker who was younger than I.
I still have no earthly idea why it wasn’t the other way around. That it wasn’t the health-conscious Mike who was looking at my signature while I, who’d been carrying so much extra weight for so long, had succumbed to the heart attack I’d so blithely invited.
I know it’s one of those things where you’re just supposed to believe there’s a reason for all this. More and more, though, I’m moved to think that it’s just further proof that life is random, unpredictable, and unfair. Then again, as William Goldman wrote in “The Princess Bride,” No one ever said life is fair. It’s just fairer than death, that’s all.
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