by Max Brantley
Oh, happy day. Hogs win. Anything else to talk about tonight?
I spent much of the afternoon at the Second Baptist Church funeral and related events for my friend and colleague Ira Hocut. It was a good funeral. You know what I mean. If there must be funerals, let them include: Eloquent and knowing remarks by preachers and friends. A devoted family. Stories you have never heard before. (Not one but two infamous occasions when our legally blind production manager was the designated driver for inebriated pals. His service on a RAIN Team and for Katrina victims. His sly free advertising placements in the Times for the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship.) Good music. People you haven't seen in years. Laughter. Tears. Regrets for things said and unsaid. Comfort. And, yes, a Sunday school class potluck by an excellent pecan pie baker and other good cooks.
So long, Ira Lee. I was going to say I wish you could have been there. But, of course, you were.