Cathy Seipp passed away yesterday. She was unbearable. Unbearably funny. Unbearably wise. Unbearably willing to be incorrect in the eyes of the Times. The falsities of death demand perfection and sainthood; but she lived in the much more difficult landscape of the real: as the ultimate beautiful, smart LA dame. Her daughter, Maia, is not a tribute (she's far too flesh and blood), but is as wonderful and authentic as Cathy would have wished. All of my thoughts turn to them at this time. Our readers should read Cathy's columns (at NRO, and elsewhere), and give to the Lung Cancer Alliance.