Stuart died. It happened at our book club. Vinyl Café had been off the air for a few years but seemed like a fresh memory. Then someone mentioned how I could do a spot-on impression. So, I tried it and botched it and everyone was embarrassed the one guy for talking me up me for letting him down everyone else for witnessing it. It wasn't surprising you must hear the voice clearly in your head to really nail an impression. Stuart's voice wasn't fresh enough. It seemed cruel for him to live on that way, in a clumsy imitation. Worse, he would have spun the same story differently same awkward circumstance, because that's life, but his ending would have landed somewhere comforting. You could almost hear it. Almost.