Getting the grief without getting the gravy.

This morning, I read one of those headlines that I thought was a joke, a joke that was in terribly poor taste. But I did some looking, and my fears were not assuaged. Jerry Orbach is dead. The man who originated Billy Flint in "Chicago", the best singing candlestick ever, the beloved sarcastic NY detective, the only reason to watch Dirty Dancing, died of prostate cancer this morning.

I have nothing funny to say.