Today marks the birthdays of two creative geniuses: Ernest Hemingway and Robin Williams.

                                        Does anyone disagree??

Robin Williams made people laugh with his boundless energy in exposition, both verbally and physically. He could touch the heart of the viewer in ways that few can. Williams, from Chicago, Illinois, had only recently turned 63 when he decided his time was up.

Ernest Hemingway could pull you into his staccato rabbit hole of storytelling, reaching the common man and the literary scholar with his words. Hemingway, from a small town outside Chicago, was almost 62 when he departed.

These parallels are a bit uncanny. Was it the Chicago connection? Was it the age of no return? Seriously, if Hemingway had waited a couple weeks, he would have been 62, and if Williams had not waited, he would have been 62. Yeah, I know it’s a stretch, but honestly, I was surprised when I saw how much the two had in common.

Both were craftsmen who put their heart and soul into their purpose.

Both were beloved by their public.

But both must have been hurting greatly inside.

Because Both pulled the plug on their greatness.

Perhaps this is why their work still resonates, and will continue to do so.

We do miss you both, and what more you could have contributed to the world.

In honor of Hemingway, I will go for a swim after writing this, and to Williams and you, I bid, nanoo, nanoo.