But his career afforded him a little bit of celebrity, and there are people who follow his page still who have no idea that he's gone--and there's no reason they should, really. His passing was quiet and dignified. There were no big announcements. We spread his ashes in the Atlantic Ocean on a freezing January night, a dozen people who knew him from a dozen different ways. But there the comments are, the automatic "HBD!" posts, as if he's still out there somewhere, checking alerts on his iPhone.
Although honestly I think he'd be more than a little amused at this. I can picture him yelling loudly about the weirdness of it all. There'd be swearing involved. He sometimes played movie monsters during his career, and that size, that loudness, was central to his outward image, just as much as the philosopher and painter and speechwriter parts of hi were his internal self.
So, hey Hines, wherever you are. You're missed, old friend. I know I'm not the only one who still uses "what would Hines do right now" as my barometer for navigating this strange little world. Rare is the day I don't think it. See you again some day, I hope.