My cousin Jim died yesterday. Here’s a picture of a bunch of us cousins at Mardi Gras. Jim is on the left. Jim was much more like an uncle than a cousin, always generous, being sure to always keep in touch. One of my favorite memories of him was the time he smuggled me into the annual Mensa convention by talking our way in. Another was him awakening the proprietress of Antoine’s, the oldest restaurant in Louisiana, so she could give us a tour one morning. I’ve heard that he would occasionally get asked for his autograph by people who mistook him for Rush Limbaugh and he would take their pen and paper and sign his own name. A scholar and a gentleman, you’ll be missed, Jim.