#183 Robin Williams

I've been struggling with Robin Williams' death this week just like many others across the world.  For me, the struggle stems back to my childhood in the early to middle 80's.  At that time in my life, my dad and I did not live in the same city.  I only saw him one month out of the year, and he did not know what to do with me.  He hoped to use our limited time to instill in me a sense of discipline and respect.  He was a Captain in the US army, and it pained him to see me growing up a spoiled child accustomed to getting anything I wanted.

Obviously this caused friction between us.  I was 8, 9 and 10 years old, and I wanted nothing to do with discipline.  I wanted to play Super Mario Bros.  And Kung Fu.  And RBI baseball.  He wanted me to learn chores.  At night he wanted to watch old WWII movies.  I wanted to watch anything with Arnold in it.

We found our common ground with stand up comedy.  Stand up comedy emerged in the 80s with stars like George Carlin, Steven Wright, Eddie Murphy and Robin Williams.  I didn't understand half of the things these guys said, but every time my dad erupted with laughter, I would erupt with laughter.   We laughed at all the HBO specials, the young comics like Bill Maher, Pete Townsend, Bob Nelson trying to make names for themselves.  I recorded several bits so that I could reenact them for family at night after dinner.

And the highlight of every year was Comic Relief hosted by Robin Williams, Billy Crystal and Whoopi Goldberg.  This was my favorite time of year.  My dad and I never missed it.  We had so much fun together during this time in our lives that he retired from the army so that he could move to Houston to be closer to me.

So when Robin Williams passed away, we lost an artist, a performer and an enthusiastically unique personality.  But we also lost someone who meant more to others than he could possibly understand.  He will truly be missed.