suggestion, a problem. He didn’t land, he never 
landed. I never saw him land. Maybe he did at home. 
But I saw him at home. We would look into the 
fridge to see what we were going to cook. It was 
like bringing a Martian to some domestic appliance. 
He would look into it, searching his brain to 
remember what all of this meant, what function all 
of this played in reality. He was perfectly capable 
of handling a beer, or a Coca-Cola, and he knew 
what a lamb chop looked like. I’m sounding foolish, 
but it’s true. There was something extraordinary 
about the way he behaved in domestic life. It was a 
great waste for example to go into the detail of 
looking for the perfect wine and bringing it to him