It was an eventful and fun, but probably not universally interesting, holiday weekend. There was mountain biking, and body boarding, and volleyball, and BBQ’ing, and basketball, and woodworking. But any of the good times and happy memories created have been immediately supplanted by the sadness that Gilligan has died.

Which makes me wonder, by the way, about what he might feel about all of this right now, looking up from his spot in hell and reading the countless eulogies to him in only the kewlest blogs and newspapers. I’m betting, without any statistical backing, that an estimated 92.37% of those blogs and newspapers have titles along the lines of:

Gilligan Passes From Life But Not Syndication
So Long, Little Buddy
Gilligan On Eternal 3-Hour Tour

You get the idea.

Does it bother him (“him” being Bob Denver), I wonder, being eternally associated with a television character? Especially one that he only played for 3 or 4 seasons and was then to be forever typecast in the role. Do his children, secretly, mourn the loss of Gilligan just as much as Bob? The mind wonders.

And speaking of sadness, is there anything else one can do to help those in New Orleans? It’s a helpless feeling, watching all of that suffering without any solutions, and having already sent your donation to the Red Cross.

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