R.I.P. Mr. Ades

On December 18 last year, we went to a restaurant for dinner in the village, we eaves-dropped, trying to figure out who the party sitting next to us were: they were celebrating this familiar-looking older guy’s birthday. We knew he’s the guy we see around the city selling potato peelers, and the guy, who was obviously very interested in him, has to be a writer.

On the way home, we were extremely obsessed and tried Googling their names on the phone. And voila, we were right: writer Howard Kaplan was celebrating Joe Ades’ birthday that evening. It was Kaplan who wrote the article about Joe Ades’ amazing story for Vanity Fair.

Last Sunday, Joe Ades passed away. Obviously I don’t know Mr. Ades, I haven’t even bought a potato peeler from him. I might have seen him a few times in my years living in New York. Nonetheless, I feel sad. Sad because knowing I was right behind him when he celebrated his last birthday not even 2 months ago. And he seemed really contented that evening.

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