This takes me back to a truly weird moment when I was a teenager. I lived in London and was hanging out in a pub in Hampstead. There were a bunch of us from my school and one or two girls they knew. When the pub closed we all went over the road to one of the girls houses. It was an amazing place full of artifacts, a crystal skull, a 300 year old program from a Shakespeare production. I turned to the girl and said “what does your dad do?” "she said “He’s Peter O’Toole”. “good job” I said.
Sad loss.
