Samuel (jeans, plaid flannel shirt, Knobby’s Bar trucker hat), Phanny (spandex, lavender fleece pullover, hair scrunchie), and I (regular old boring tan fishing shirt and pants, rubber- banded pony tail) were slouching in folding chairs on the concrete slab next to the cannon one cool, foggy late afternoon, sipping hot chocolate (Ha! You thought I was going to say Bailey’s!), and musing (which we do a lot) about the various maladies that seem to afflict the famous to a degree far above that of the general population.