Well, he lived to a ripe old age, so we can celebrate his life. For us old boys he was, along with Heinlein, Philip K Dick, Vonnegut, Ballard, Wyndham (to name some of the finest) a member of a generation that defined Speculative Fiction. As a teenage boy, alone in an outback town, I read Bradbury and found that weird was what was real. I hope he's now walking down High Street in a Mid West town somewhere on Mars