Louis Rukeyser, the host of Wall Street Week, just died of multiple myeloma at age 73. I didn't really know much about him, except my Great-Grandma Nina just loved him.
Great-Grandma Nina had some money. Not just money: mo-NAY. For Christmas, we'd get things like socks with fake fur on them. After she died, I received a strand of her pearls, a bear from her teddy bear collection, and, for some reason, an unopened bottle of Kahlua from her liquor cabinet. For seven years, Jay has been after me: "When are we going to drink the Nina Kahlua? When are we going to drink the Nina Kahlua?" What? Never! It belonged to my beloved grandmother! It's a family heirloom now! I'm giving it to WCB on her wedding day!
Seriously, we have moved to two different apartments and a house with that bottle of Kahlua.
Where was I going with all of this? Oh, yeah, Louis Rukeyser. Now it seems that whenever anyone dies of multiple myeloma, it just leaps off of the page at me. It seems like EVERYONE is dying of multiple myeloma. It's like there's nothing else to die of. It's what all of the cool people die of now.
Aren't you all jealous that I have such a fashionable disease?