The death of Shirley Temple has me thinking of the years nipping at my heels. She and I were — almost — precise contemporaries. Shirley was born on April 23, 1928, in Santa Monica, Calif. and I came along just two days later in faraway Philadelphia. At the time of what we may call my "awareness," say at age four, she was beginning a film career that made her the most famous and adored little girl the world has ever known. In my mind's eye, she must have been born with all 56 blonde curls already sprouted. As for me, I emerged sickly with jaundice, yellowish and an ugly mop of black hair. Family legend, never denied, has my mother saying, "Take him away."