Thinking about Robin Williams

This has been a tough week. A lot of people have said it... I've mostly kept it inside. At first, afraid I was being silly about how devastated I felt and how unreasonably hard this news hit me. I don't feel I should keep it bottled up anymore. I wrote this on Monday, but haven't had the heart to be able to post it. Here it is:


Monday August 11, 2014
I had many idols growing up: nearly all of them were men - men I aspired to be and to work with someday. Gene Kelly and Michael Jackson inspired me to pursue song and dance; Mr. Rogers inspired and taught me how my imagination would serve me and keep me alive in my heart and mind throughout my life; Dan Rather inspired me to seek truth and gather information; John Candy and Robin Williams taught and inspired me with laughter.

Robin, however, was the one that was my decision maker when I was 8 or so years old. I wanted to make people laugh like him. My mom and dad would laaaaugh at his movies and always rewatch them. I knew I was an entertainer, but after seeing Robin, I wanted to be the comic - even more of a ham than I already was! I wanted to BE HIM. I felt I had a chance since my dad was rather goofy and his type of humor were very similar to Robins... Just not quite as manic. 

My dad is at the top of this list of male idols. My dad is a sensitive, genuine, hard-working man. He is everything I wanted to be. I wanted to be the farmer like he was, I wanted to be the computer nerd and technician he was, I wanted to be strong and thoughtful like him. I've always had a tendency for the sensitive men, and I think it's because my dad - while being "the man", he was still full of emotion, gentleness and kindnesses. I searched for that trait in others, and I think I found more good idols because of the groundwork he laid for me to understand people as a whole. 

I guess this goes back to how men are viewed culturally as unemotional, weak and negative if they cry or have feelings. The whole "be a man" or "man up" or the use of "feminine traits" as something negative leaves a really bad taste in my mouth. In addition to the role model of my father, Robin was a someone that felt like a second dad, a godfather, an uncle, a kindred spirit, and was so influential in my decision to pursue entertainment. I remember watching him and saying outloud: "I'm going to be a comic like Robin." I aspired to work with all my idols... But like people do, life happens, and one by one, my idols left this plane of existence. 

Even most of my feminine idols, Madeline Kahn, Gilda Radner, Whitney Houston, Mother Teresa, are all gone. 

Robin was my last childhood entertainment idol - someone I was sure I would meet, someone I was sure I would have the absolute pleasure of sharing a theatrical moment with, a smile, a scene, a wonderment... That light went dim today. My Christmas light strand is nearing the point where most people would give up replacing bulbs and just toss the strand... But I can't. The hope and inspiration they brought and continue to bring me remind me that meeting them wasn't the goal, just the icing on the cake. I can still have that cake and it will be lovely, I'm sure, but I will know what I missed having lost the opportunity to work with these folks.

Robin was my concrete moment where I decided to pursue my dreams. Thank you for the laughter and tears. I can't help but feel that What Dreams May Come is some kind of ironic, cruel foreshadowing. One of my favorites of his - makes you laugh, makes you cry. I won't pretend to be someone that has seen all his work, because I haven't. But I will keep seeing movies of his, stand-up and television. His charm and humanity is immortal on film.

Thank you, Robin. I will miss you.

*zen

(NOTE: I have one idol still with us: Dan Rather is still around, and I still have aspirations to meet him and share a moment with him. His search for truth and general curiosity are still strong and inspiring. Till, then - Dan Rather, journalist and inspiration.)