It was a bulletin on CNN yesterday morning, announcing the death of David Carradine. The man so many identified as Kwai Chang Caine is deceased at 72-how he died is really not my concern nor is it my intention to speculate about it.
He was, in death, a reminder that we live segmented lives. I associate him with the TV series, Kung Fu, that I always think 'aired for years and years' but actually was on for only three seasons. It just felt longer and perhaps only Master Po could explain why.
For others whom I encountered, Carradine's death provoked them into thinking of Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill. Different age cohorts, sharing a cultural icon from different perspectives and who see different people. I suspect all of us also flashed on his stint as the spokesmonk for Yellow Book. Truth to tell, he was, in terms of appearances, practically a one man industry and, if reports are to be believed, was never at a loss for a next gig. As to how much contentment and serenity his life and times brought him, as the great master, himself, was wont to say to the seeker, "if pizza makes you happy, just type in what and where."
Turns out the Sixties were a run-through.