The now-late Gene Wilder was one of the comic geniuses of my youth. He will be missed.
In 1980 or thereabouts, I had a perm and thus curly hair. I was in an expensive restaurant with someone one day, and I noticed that a young lad of about 10 years at another table was eyeing me eagerly. As time went on, I caught him pointing in my direction as he passionately pleaded with his Mom for something. Eventually, carrying a small book with him and watched closely by the adults there, the kid slid down from his table and walked tentatively over to me.
“Can I have your autograph, Mr Gene Wilder, please?”
I was surprised, but hurried whispers between my companion and I about childhood disappointment led me to agree; and I signed his book as “Gene Wilder”. The kid was delighted and rushed eagerly and noisily back to his people. I nodded to them, smiled, and went on with my day. Looking back, I am still glad I did it.