You would never know Robert Benton had been here. A minute ago, he was sitting in this chair in this hotel restaurant, drinking a Shiner, nibbling at fried squid, chewing over the past. His chair is still warm. But now he is gone, and it's as though he had never been here. Even the tape recorder perched inches from his face contains scant evidence of his existence. His voice, soft and possessing a slight lisp, barely... More >>>