Life Without Maurice and A Virtual Fortune Cookie

For almost a week, I had to live without my computer. It needed some repairs and the problem was pretty serious. I had no choice but to call the doctor, so the doc came and took my Maurice - yes, it's name is Maurice! if guys name their cars, I can name my computer, right? - I expected life to be a little... different, but not lile this! I realized  in this time that I was addicted to Maurice. And still am, obviously! That is not a very comforting thought! I guess I'm in recovery: I admit I have a problem. The funny thing is, I don't want to solve this problem! LOL! Am I in trouble? OK, you don't have to answer that question. Oh, and Maurice comes from officer Maurice Boscorelli, remember Third Watch?
The second part of this entry is about a virtual fortune cookie and the "coincidence" that fit that cookie. Some two weeks ago, on Facebook, I opened a virtual fortune cookie. It said: You will witness an odd ceremony.   And I did. The ceremony was the military funerals of our beloved Romanian actor, Gheorghe Dinica. It was odd in the sense that I don't get to see something like that often. And I can't think of a more worthy man and life to receive such an honor.

If you read this and you don't know who I'm talking about, check this page on  Imdb . He had an extraordinary life.
I admired him and loved him ever since I was a child. He was so gifted, he knew that, and lived his life for us, the public. What I want to say is that although he knew he was very good, he didn't act like he was better than the rest. I'm not talking about modesty here, I think it's rather dignity. I don't know how to express this better...he knew he was brilliant, he accepted the praise from both the public and the critics, but he did it so naturally, the kind of behaviour you only get to see in very few people. I'm not saying he was humbled by it, because that wasn't the case. He was not! Can you imagine knowing your own value, being totally aware of how people see you, and still to not have a shred of pride in your soul? That's how he was! I will always remember him and keep a little place in my heart for him. Thank you, Maestro, for living your life for us! We'll se you again some time, when our turn comes. :)