I didn’t know ’til today. And I have nothing to say about it. I didn’t know the man.
But I know that sucks, and it leaves me feeling pretty pissed-off. So here’s my eulogy:
I don’t know why it came as such a SHOCK, and I don’t know why I care as much as I do, but I do. Some of you may know that I don’t like doing obituaries and eulogies of public people here, because if I started down that road I’d probably do nothing but obituaries and eulogies, and I can’t note and mark everyone, and besides I’m just some guy with a blog. But then that just makes it weirder, when somebody dies and I ought to feel no powerful connection to them, but it turns out I do, so I guess that means I always did and just didn’t know it. And so then you have to say something about it, but it turns out you’re not prepared at all, and you wonder why this person and not somebody else, and you wonder what that says about you: how you can let so many more heartfelt obituaries pass you by for want of time and inclination, but then get arrested by the reality of it all when it’s some guy like Harvey. Pekar. Who was a guy you didn’t even know, and even only really admired when you stopped to think of him, which wasn’t really that often, because he was actually if-truth-be-known a stranger. So…
Fuck it, I don’t know why I’m feeling this one. But I am.
And I wish I had some good words to say, but I don’t.
Goddamnit, Harvey Pekar died. I can’t fucking believe it.
I wish I’d met him.