Esteemed colleague Brian Pronger died, I recently found out, last October. It was understood he had been in a long-term-care facility for some time beforehand, but it seems I have no way to verify that. I might not have talked to him since 1999, except to yell at his poodles when they barked at me in Riverdale Park.
But the death appeared to be an assisted suicide. Even worse, he kicked us all in the teeth from beyond the grave: “Brian did not want a funeral. His wish to be cremated has been fulfilled.” Oh, but there’ll be some kind of “memorial celebration” that I won’t be invited to and will not hear about till months after the fact.