I know this is a bit belated at this point, but I couldn't go without mentioning the death of acting legend Paul Newman:
Paul Newman, one of the last of the great 20th-century movie stars, died Friday at his home in Westport, Conn. He was 83.
The cause was cancer, said Jeff Sanderson of Chasen & Company, Mr. Newman’s publicists.
He acted in more than 65 movies over more than 50 years, drawing on a physical grace, unassuming intelligence and good humor that made it all seem effortless.
Yet he was also an ambitious, intellectual actor and a passionate student of his craft, and he achieved what most of his peers find impossible: remaining a major star into a craggy, charismatic old age even as he redefined himself as more than Hollywood star. He raced cars, opened summer camps for ailing children and became a nonprofit entrepreneur with a line of foods that put his picture on supermarket shelves around the world.
The New York Times obituary says it all much better than I could, since I'm incapable of being earnest, and I don't write for the New York Times, so I'll just leave it at that. Tonight I'll be pouring out a little balsamic vinaigrette in memory of one of the greats.