I’ve always wanted to be an interviewer-talk show host type of guy. Good ones are rare. So here’s to the memory of Tom Snyder, who I always liked to watch.
If you didn’t think he was ahead of the curve, here’s a clip:
R.I.P., Tom.
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And to Ingmar Bergman…
So the Barenaked Ladies wrote this as a tribute to him?
Broke into the old apartment. Forty-two stairs from the street.
Crooked landing, crooked landlord, narrow laneway filled with crooks.
This is where we used to live.
QUote from the article:
In 1976, during a rehearsal at the Royal Dramatic Theater, police came to take Bergman away for interrogation about tax evasion. The director, who had left all finances to be handled by a lawyer, was questioned for hours while his home was searched. When released, he was forbidden to leave the country.
The case caused an enormous uproar in the media and Bergman had a mental breakdown that sent him to hospital for over a month. He later was absolved of all accusations and in the end only had to pay some extra taxes.
In his autobiography he admitted to guilt in only one aspect: “I signed papers that I didn’t read, even less understood.”
But Ingmar, they make you sign stacks of papers, stacks and stacks and they want you to sign them in 15 minutes before the next client comes in. And then they tell you :
“this one just says this, sign it.”
Like I said, the court system doesn’t know justice. My sled dog knew justice. That he now rests in peace makes me happy.