I’m still trying to process the passing of perhaps the greatest actor of his (and my) generation last weekend. It feels like something on the scale of James Dean’s death, eclipsing or at least equalling the impact of all other similar tragic events, except probably the murder of John Lennon. Hoffman’s death falling on Groundhog Day, I felt the immediate urge, before drinking my sweet vermouth on the rocks with a  twist, to say a prayer and drink to world peace .. and to Philip Seymour Hoffman. And though it was Super Bowl Sunday, the only score that mattered to me was: Heroin 1, Hoffman 0. And we all lost.