He would have been 88 today.
I told this story on the anniversary of Breitbart’s passing, but I’ll repeat it here.
Speaking of dreams, I dreamed about my dad last night. We were all sitting around a table, I think at a cabin in Big Bear (which he never visited). He wasn’t doing so well and he said to all of us: “The time has come. I want to say goodbye to all of you.” We all started to protest: he shouldn’t be giving up, he had time left, etc. But he was very calm and confident about it, and I decided he was right. It was time to say goodbye. I decided to give him a hug, but as I started to get out of my chair and stand up, I woke up.
It’s a recurring theme in my dreams: the desire to have that one last hug. The next best thing is to hug the folks you still can. Everyone reading this: please get up from your computer and go do that, right now. To paraphrase the standard pitch from talk radio guys: tell ’em Patterico sent you!
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!