I have this tradition. It’s something I do now when a friend dies. I save his Rolodex card. What am I supposed to do? Throw it away in the trash can? I won’t do that. No, I won’t. That’s too final. Last year I had five cards. No I have fifty. A collection of cardboard tombstones, bound together with a rubber band. I hate these fucking funerals. I really do. And you know what else I hate? I hate the memorials. That’s our social life now. Going to these things.