Here is a movie about a happy and nice man. Bill Cunningham was lucky to find what he loves to do and do it, and win universal affection from all who know him and make a contribution to our lives and times. Doing what he loves is very nearly all he does, except to sleep and eat.
Ever since reading Thoreau's Walden, I have been teased by the notion of leading a life with only the bare essentials and peacefulness. I lacked the nerve to find that little cottage and plant those rows of beans. Bill Cunningham lives a life as pure and idealistic as Thoreau's, and he does it in the middle of Manhattan. Until a few years ago, when he was evicted by his landlord, Bill lived in a tiny rent-controlled apartment in Carnegie Hall. Yes, Carnegie Hall, in one of the artists' studios on the upper floors set aside when greed didn't decide everything.
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