Harvey Pekar, the man who would play me in the story of my life (if I were a balding, middle-aged curmudgeon) is dead.

I discovered Pekar late in life; later than I think I should have.

As a reflective, almost wise thirtysomething, I feel like I was just beginning to understand him.

I can’t help but wonder what it would’ve been like to stumble upon his unglamorous musings as a twentysomething, self-proclaimed ‘tortured artist’.

Time to rev up the DVD player and throw in my stolen, horribly smudged copy of American Splendor.

I will miss this man.

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2 thoughts on “Harvey Pekar, the man who would play me in the story of my life (if I were a balding, middle-aged curmudgeon) is dead.

  1. That film is great and particularly the end where Harvey talks about how long he’ll live and life being hard. Its really a haunting piece now. Giammati did a great job personifying a guy who none of us really knew and he did it without making Harvey look foolish or lame, he just played him as a hardworking slob trying to get through life.

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