by Larry Brody
Back in the day when I was a kid writer hanging at Harlan Ellison’s house and being amazed not only by his talent but also by everything he got away with in everyday life that would’ve gotten me, at best, a punch in the face, there was this guy named Don Glut who also would show up every once in awhile.
I remember being told that Don was a writer when we were introduced. And that he was a huge comics fan. But I never got any details because he was, quite simply, the most abstracted human being I’d ever met at that point. His head was – well, it was somewhere beyond the clouds, in a very special place. Which, I thought at the time, must have made life hard for him because Don also seemed to be the most eager-to-be-loved human being I’d ever known as well…and if there’s a trait more opposed to living in your own head than that I can’t imagine what it is.