Dear James Earl Jones,

I think I saw you in the back of a Town Car this morning on my way to work. I don't know why you were (or would want to be) in Baltimore, but you're awesome, so I trust your judgment. I almost got out of my car and asked you to tell me that you were "my fahhhhther". However, the light changed and we parted ways. I miss your lush baritone voice (that I never got to hear) already.

Simba you must take your place in the Circle of Life,
Clare