With the recent passing of Robin Williams, I've been, as most people have, watching his stand-up comedy, to refresh fond memories but primarily, laugh. Willams' energy stunned me. His physicality was wild and unpredictable. His tongue spit debilitating wit at unfathomable speeds. For as boisterous as Williams could be, he possessed the ability to hush crowds. With hundreds of attentive eyes fixed on every word, he told us about our "spark of madness". He breathed life into "seize the day."
However, using "Dead Poets' Society" as an example, Williams never shied away from reality. "Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold and die." He was honest, in a way that was kind. It's so easy to lie with a smile on one's face, so much tougher to tell the truth in the same manner.
So as Williams raved on about alcohol, the history of golf, the Iraq War, Viagra, and the need to fulfill our exploratory, creative desires, we saw a portrait of a man, not a talent. He was someone, whom, especially in his work, was transparent, if we looked hard enough. He valued poetry, imagination, adventure, but most importantly, he recognized the need for balance. I think he realized that because the world could be so scary and painful, he needed to concentrate every kind of comfort and joy into a 67-inch hairy-armed package.
It was a tough calling to take on, but if there was anyone who got the closest to setting the scales right, it was him. Seize the day, my friends, just as Robin Williams taught us how. Thank you for reading; I'm the Man Without A Plan, signing off.
No comments:
Post a Comment