(Fortune)
I can pretty much tell you the precise moment I realized Fun had died. It was like one of those movies where people walk into a darkened room to check on a friend they haven't seen for a while. They think the body in bed is sleeping -- until they take a closer look. "Hold on," says one. "He's not asleep ... He's ... dead." Then there is a dramatic silence as people consider what they have lost.
At any rate, Fun is clearly dead. It happened about 10 a.m. last Thursday. I got an e-mail from a guy just back from the annual boondoggle in Sanibel Island. "Terrible time," he said. "Meetings around the clock. Lots of whiteboards. Nobody disgraced themselves."
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