I hesitate to call myself a friend of Paul Newman's, but he was certainly a friend to me. I can't say we hung out together, but we talked on those occasions we found ourselves in the same place thanks either to good friends or good occasions, owing primarily to Paul's generosity to The Nation, where I've been a contributor for 25 years and a columnist for about half that time.
We first met 10 years ago when, as a favour to a close friend, he came to a dinner party given in honor of my second book in a private room at Café Des Artistes. His presence, and the party itself, were already plenty in terms of making me feel terrific - for a book that did not even sell out its lousy 5,000 print run - but Paul went the extra mile and put some effort into flirting with my spouse, making the evening just as memorable for her. Every once in a while afterwards he would avail himself of my services as a political consultant regarding his commitment to this or that politician. And I took advantage of him once, to read a film script I wrote with an old-fashioned Irish pol that would have been perfect for him - and it was one of the kindest and most constructive rejections I've ever received.
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