I love an industry rogue. Always have.
George Christy died less than a year ago. Loved him. And I knew what an absurd pain-in-the-ass he could be. I understood his arrogance. I saw the man. Lived to 93 and still felt compelled to pretend to be straight. He carried a lot of baggage. He wasn't even a gossip, so much as a part of the well-constructed furnit…
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