"Nicely Played, Grasshopper...Nicely Played..."

Leave it to Quentin Tarentino.

In the midst of all the predictable platitudes, ponderings and pronouncements in the wake of the death of David Carradine this week, the Q man managed to strike what I think was the most loving chord.

More on that in a minute.

A couple of years ago, I interviewed David for the morning show I was doing in Delaware. It was a typical five minute, in and out fast, telephone chat, part of a “promotional radio tour” that celebs do when they are selling something, a book or a new movie or a new show. I don’t remember what Carradine was hawking, but I do remember after it was over I knew that it was unique in terms of interviews I had done to date.

He was, in a word, eccentric.

Of course, calling David Carradine eccentric is like calling Joe Biden insensitive.

Hi and welcome to this edition of “Clear Grasp of the Obvious”.

Of the famous and near I’ve talked with, there have been more than a few who were “marching to their own drummer”, as it were, but that’s to be expected when you’re talking with the creative types in our civilization.

I imagine Van Gogh would come off as quite the wack job if FM had been around in the ear chopping days.

After all, how surprised are any of us to find out that the famous are freaks?

The word that comes to mind when I recall talking to Carradine, though, isn’t “freak”.

It’s “frequency”.

As in, this guy was simply broadcasting from a different place on the cosmic dial than the most of us.

And while I’m pretty confident at being able to hold my own in any conversation, no matter how inane or insane, I have to admit that I was paddling pretty fast to stay connected with the guy.

And the interview only lasted about six minutes.

I’m not sure I could have made it through, say, an entire dinner conversation.

Obviously, since the entire length of my relationship with Mr. Carradine was approximately 360 seconds, give or take, I have no idea whether he was an artist of another astral plain doing his compassionate best to communicate with a mere mortal…or whether he was just a very intelligent, very funny mere mortal who liked yanking people’s chains.

I’ve never forgotten the conversation, though.

And, hey, I had to be reminded the other day that I talked once for about fifteen minutes to the guy who played “Peterman” on Seinfeld.

So, whether Carradine was a wack…or simply witty, I’m happy I got the chance to make the connection if only for 360 seconds, give or take.

And, as mentioned earlier, I think Tarantino was the most eloquent of all those who attempted to be eloquent on the night of Carradine’s passing.

While the others, friends, managers, acquaintances, et al, were doing sincere, albeit stereotypical, lip service to the man and his career, all the while doing their best to tiptoe around the manner of his passing, Tarantino, who directed Carradine in the Kill Bill movies and isn’t exactly Mr. Average Guy Next Door himself, did what he always does.

Shot straight from the hip.

With a glint, and a tear, in his eye and a smile on his face, Q remarked…

“Sad as it is to lose him, the way that he died and all the unanswered questions around it…’The Mysterious Death of David Carradine’…you just gotta know that David would have loved it…”

The moment I heard Tarantino say that, I flashed back to my conversation with Carradine and realized what I hadn’t been totally able to grasp during the 360 seconds, give or take, we were talking on the phone.

I couldn’t see him.

But he was winking at me the whole time.

Damned if he’s still not winking at us.