Truman Quixote

Once upon a time, I saw Philip Seymour
Hoffman at a cafe off Bleecker Street.
I was reading and eating a sandwich
(peanut butter and apricot jam) when he
came in with a little boy. I put down my
book immediately to watch him order a
sandwich and pick a carrot stick from
the kid's plate.

That was two years ago. Capote came
out around that time, and Hoffman looked
much better on film, even if the lighting
turned his skin the color of lox cream-
cheese. As with most things, my admiration
of Capote was sartorial: as the
writer, Hoffman looks great in peacoats,
thick sweaters and tortoise-shell glasses.

That's all.


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