Where's the Funny to Come From

Okay kids, I'm way, way, waaaay behind on posting so if you don't mind I'll skip the front-loading of ceremonial bullshit and get right to it.  You'll be seeing a flurry of stuff from me over the next few days so I hope you're in the mood to read / tolerate a bit...

I want to spend a few minutes on Robin Williams.  For those of you that know me well, you probably know that I considered Mr. Williams to be one of three favorite comedians, the others being George Carlin and Dennis Miller.  I was first introduced to G-rated Robin Williams thru Mork and Mindy and then, on a family vacation sometime around 12 or 13 years old, I had the privilege of seeing Good Morning, Vietnam for the first of many, many times.  Robin Williams helped to found my definition of what is truly funny.  He may even be partially responsible for my ability to rant hyper-kinetically when I get upset.  Well, maybe he gets to share that one with Dennis Miller but hey, influence is influence nonetheless.

I met Mr. Williams once.  He took over the stage at a local comedy club in Memphis one night when the comedian everyone had paid to see became ill on the stage and had to stop the show.  Apparently he was just in the crowd that night and even though he'd never met the man onstage he just jumped in to help out with a three hour set and an impromptu meet and greet afterward.  My impression of him was kind of one awe: I couldn't believe that the guy who had made me laugh so hard for so long was just this small furry dude who seemed genuinely humbled that so many people wanted to say hello after his set.  

In response to his death, well, there's not a lot to say that hasn't been beaten to death already. While I'm not an advocate of suicide, I guess it comes down to the fact that the man decided that he'd reached his exit off the turnpike.  I can't judge another's choices because I'm not privy to anyone else's thoughts.  I find it sad that such a bright light that meant so much to so many is gone, circumstances aside.

Which brings me to my real lament.  It seems that, with regard to comedy, the great ones are leaving us more and more. George Carlin's death hit me similarly to Robin William's.  God knows if Dennis Miller were to suddenly exit life stage left I'd be damn near inconsolable.  It's not that there aren't great comedians anymore, just none that hit me personally on the level that these men did and do.  I challenge you to find anything close to Robin Williams Live at the Met. I think what truly drew me in to these particular comedians was the intelligence behind the jokes. The power of observation mixed with enough snark to make it palatable.  The rapier wit sheathed in a Nerf-like cone of perception about the modern state of existence.  And, above all, the ability to recognize that God gave you a penis and a brain and only enough blood flow to operate one at the time.  

Rest in peace sir.  You are missed.