I’m still sorting out why — and surely it has something to do with vulnerability — but NOTHING MAKES ME SADDER / SQUISHIER THAN A SAD OLD MAN. NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING. If he’s sad in a way he will never be able to fully articulate — EVEN SADDER. So me on an airplane watching 89 Year Old Clint Eastwood in what his maybe his last big movie (maybe), The Mule, watching him grow flowers and Not Connect but then Connect with his estranged family — I AM PUDDLE ON THE GROUND OF PLANE, SEEPING SLOWLY BACK TOWARDS THE BATHROOMS.