Tiziano Terzani

This lovely signage across the street from our favorite margarita & enchiladas place reminded me of Tiziano Terzani, the Italian journalist I met while he was studying at Columbia in 1969.

I would have liked to have seen more of him but I left for Stanford that August.

In 2003, I said hello when he gave a reading at Stacey's for his book against the Iraq war. He seemed to have entered what I took to be a Himalayan phase—long white hair and beard, white kurta....

I didn't realize he was battling cancer.

And would soon write, with his son, Folco, a huge bestseller about his acceptance of death, The End is My Beginning.

There's a good interview with Folco in English and a better one in Italian, which is slow but offers photos that give a good idea of how charismatic Tiziano was.

Having just come back from retirement, I, too, in my own uncharismatic way, feel I have learned to accept death. I feel like a soccer player going on after the 90th minute—the referee has allowed extra "stoppage" time (to make up for all the interruptions and delays), although he hasn't specified an exact amount.

So I will play on. I know who's going to win, but I haven't lost yet.