Brando, Kerouac, Meridel Lesseuer, Ed Balchowsky---mentors all from a bit of a distance. It's as close as I dared get without melting the wax on my wings.
Brando in THE WILD ONE carried the rebeliousness of his personna to a subtle yet complete instant of realness when, while having hot steaming coffee at a greasy spoon counter, he offhandedly refused to use the handle on the cup. I picked up on that a half century ago or more and it's been, for me, a gentle personal statement of independence from the hive ever since. It's worth burning the fingers a bit. And it makes me smile---not weep.----- It must be sort of the way having one's tongue pierced for today's youth might play out. The silver bit of tack in their mouths is enough to remind them of the discomfort's reality. That, in turn, prepares them a bit for their own mortality. -------- I do suspect this man was ready to go.