Losing Karl Malden upsets me more than the death of a grotesque, white-faced, lipstick-wearing pedophile. (You knew who I was talking about, didn’t you.) Where do I go for the dead-celebrity ritual of fans placing wreaths of flowers and the poster of ”We Will Always Love You, Karl”? What theater will be open for Malden’s memorial, the way the Apollo was opened for you-know-who? What Jewish newspapers and which rabbis will be contorting themelves to find something Jewish, someone Jewish, some Jewish message, about Karl Malden, an honorable and great actor, the way they did about you-know-who?

First Farrah, then Karl. At least we still have Cheryl Ladd, Shelly Hack and Eva Marie Saint.