He’s had a column in the Washington Post for longer than I can remember. He’s 80. He was a plaintiff in what was perhaps the most high-profile writer vs. Hollywood studios lawsuit — and he won. And after making sure he wasn’t cheated by Hollywood, he himself cheated death. People don’t check out of hospices, but that’s exactly what Art Buchwald did last month.
So they took a leg. Whatever. He’s summering at Martha’s Vineyard and working on a not-dead-yet book. He is, apparently, playing ukelele for his adoring family.
I didn’t know that he was a fellow USC alumni until I read his Wikipedia entry. Until late last year, we shared not-quite-graduated status. Alas, now I actually have a diploma. So I have nothing in common, really, with him. I can’t even play the ukelele.
This week, Art Buchwald is profiled in the NY Times home section at his summer haven, almost post-humously. But not quite.
