Al Pacino is my hero. He’s much older than me, but we come from the same background, Italian Americans and Jews in NY and CA, like cousins, struggling to make it. He speaks our language, and represents our cultures. He put his soul into his acting roles, and we love him for it.
To my knowledge, I’ve never had a dream about him, until early this morning. He was doing a big public appearance, probably one of his last. I finally had the honor of meeting him, shaking his hand, exchanging a few respectful words. He looked so tired, like someone on his way out of the limelight, but still willing to make the effort to please his fans. The older fans, like me, kind of worshipped him, but the younger ones didn’t get him. I told them, it’s because you think he’s “old”. As he left, I felt deeply sad, because we’d probably never see him again, but I was so honored to have met him.
I woke up, looked him up online just to see how old he really is, and lo and behold, it was his birthday! What are the chances? How could that be a coincidence? Some unexplainable thing shot me up with his presence. I’m nobody, but I wish I could have met him in this lifetime.
Anyway, Al Pacino, though you’ll never read this, Happy Birthday, and many more.