Danny was the funniest person I have ever known.
I told Leo this first because I thought it was the most important thing, because humor is one of the currencies of Leo’s life and I wanted him to understand that Danny operated in the same currency.
Danny had a particular relationship with timing. He understood, instinctively, the architecture of a joke, the setup and the beat and the landing, and he could execute it in a way that made you suspect he had been studying comedy professionally. He was also, like Leo, a reader, though the reading had come slowly for him, hard-won, and the joy he took in it was more visible than Leo’s because it had cost him more.
He had worked in a movie theater for eleven years, taking tickets and selling concessions with the specific pleasure of someone who loves films and is surrounded by people who love films. He knew the catalog of the theater by heart, which movies were showing in which auditorium and what time and which ones were worth seeing. He had opinions about films that were serious and specific and that he was not shy about expressing.
