|Richard Hunt, Steve Whitmire, Jerry Nelson, Jim Henson, Frank Oz and Dave Goelz|
I haven’t written anything other than business letters and passive aggressive emails for some time now. I’ve been thinking about loss lately, mostly because I lost my grandfather in late September. I can’t help but feel that I didn’t have the chance to really make him proud before he left us. Maybe that’s because I refused to believe he was really leaving and that coincided with the recent realization that I will never be famous. There is a palpable absence in my heart and mind during those stark moments when I recognize that he is no longer here where we are right now. Do they even have the Interweb in Heaven? A little closer to the surface, a couple rungs up the strata of my psyche is another hole, a hole for famous people. It’s not a very big hole, but Jim Henson makes up most of it. I will one day fit Steve Martin in that hole too. Huh, that sounds disgusting. Anyway, I remember the morning when someone at school told me Henson died, I was in denial then too. But, last week my heart was lifted for 98 minutes and during that time everything was right with the world...almost.