“Who do you remember?” Willie glanced up at him. His hair was standing on end, rumpled by his earlier distress, but his blue eyes were clear with interest. “Oh, a good many people. My family in the Highlands— my sister and her family. Friends. My wife.” And sometimes the candle burned in memory of a young and reckless girl named Geneva, but he did not say that.
Nothing’s changed really. I still do the same things, but it’s nice. If people recognize you, generally everyone’s very respectful, very lovely, but I wonder what it’s like for real celebrities. Real stars, I guess they must have to change their lives, but no. Apart from being flown to amazing locations and talking to lots of reporters, this is great.