Louis? Sing-along Wizard of Oz? This is how you celebrate a dead actor’s birthday? A little weird, isn’t it?” I handed Tom the popcorn and nudged him toward two empty seats. “This is nothing. This is just the party at the end of a film festival that kicked off a couple of weeks ago on her actual birthday. For real weirdness you’d have to go up north, to the town where she was born. There they have a huge blowout: a parade, carnival, Garland impersonators. They even used to fly in Munchkins.” “There’s no such thing as Munchkins.” It was one of those moments when I seriously doubted his fitness to be king. Maybe the old men were right and he did need to be tucked away out of sight. I spoke slowly and clearly. “Of course, Tom, there is no such thing as a Munchkin. The actors, Tom, the actors. The ones who played the Munchkins. They bring in the actors.” He was not amused. “I still don’t get it. A dead star’s birthday? Why play dress-up?” “She was born in Minnesota.
