O Mork from Ork! Your fearful trip is done. You tried to weather every storm. But you, the most seemingly mightiest of ships can splinter apart. Either way, you are free now. That’s what Robin Williams has been from the start, a man weathering the storm. From a man performing for a crowd, to an alien studying Earthlings, to a teaching trying to open minds in a closed world, to a genie wanting to be free, or a father willing to do anything to see his kids, and on and on and on. Every role Robin Williams gave us was always one man struggling, suffering, against something or for something. Throughout much of it comedy was always present, from its lightest or most family friendly to its raunchiest or darkest. It would connect with us on some level, even if you didn’t want to admit it.
O Genie, my Genie! You made me rise up and hear the bells. Williams was always connected to me and quite literally from day one. While I was being born, as my mother loves to famously tell anyone, the show TV show “Mork & Mindy” was on. So, it’s rather funny to imagine that Robin Williams could have possibly been one of the first humans I came in contact with when I greeted the world, crying out in shock and a little fear. Some say that confluence helped set the tone for my continued, and at times too strong, sense of humor. As the years went on, ever feeling the outsider, I would use humor to connect with others, hoping for a few moments without fear. In my teens the movie “Aladdin” struck modern culture like a tidal wave. I was not immune to the all-ages fun and adventure, and that wild Genie we all wished were our best friend. I didn’t want the beautiful princess or the treasures. Oh no! Such things were either far off or out of reach. Who doesn’t want a magic genie with supreme comedic improv skills as a pal? I committed the lines. I mastered the voices (such as they were). This led to me to do more impressions, no matter the quality, using class mates as a willing, or unwilling, test audience. Around the same time, my early teen years, I entered a rite of passage, conducted by father. I was now old enough for him to share a few restrained anecdotes from Robin Williams’ so very raunchy standup. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly bold, he would show me a clip or two on a worn out VHS tape. What did it all mean?!?! I knew just enough to be dangerous; enough to not make my dad feel like his sacrifice was in vain. We were bonded in our defiance against my mother. The next few years I would continue different sorts of defiance, against loneliness, bullying, hormones, finding my place; using humor forged in the fires of the Robin, Saturday Night Live and the like. It became my shield and sword to help me get through a very tortuous and tumultuous time. Behind all the laughter were tears and so much pain. I kept going and going and going, trying to laugh, by myself or with others, hoping it would all go away. Some of it did go away. Some of it changed. And some of it was handled different. I was growing up, it wasn’t all about laughing, and that was but one part of the larger verse.
O Mr. Keating, My Captain. You do not answer with a barbaric YAWP. In my latter high-school days I struggled to find ME. It was evident to many I had a passion for stories, reading them, telling them, hearing them; as long as it was good. I also found that writing was a neat thing to do. You can write anything, preferably well, and people can get a sense of you, without having to actually speak to them face-to-face. For someone with immense stage fright, nervous in front of crowds (are there any worse than a group of high-school students?) I would definitely take advantage of this. Naturally I was rather fond of my English courses, able to express myself without really having to speak much (for a bit anyway. Many assignments involved the paralyzing task of presentation before the class). Just as this world was starting to open, thanks to my own, female version of Mr. Keating, one Mrs. Herring, I was introduced to “Dead Poet’s Society.” Many other students had already seen it, some liked it, while others were dismissive in their too-cool-to-care way. I was late bloomer in this regard, as well. What was this movie?!? A bunch of dead, uptight writers hanging out? No, I was introduced to a group of students trying to find themselves and make sense of their world. Thankfully, they had a brilliant, caring, slightly unorthodox teacher to help open the door to the possibilities for them to explore for themselves. Something else I could relate to. Many important lessons I was being taught, and would be taught, crystalized in that movie; find YOUR voice, words have meaning, poetry and beauty and romance are what we live for, and we all may contribute a verse to this wild play of life. To say this movie opened my eyes is a vast understatement. Nearly 20 years later I am still feeling the impact and finding new meanings throughout. This was the first dramatic role I had seen Robin Williams play; to this point I was only familiar with his zany slapstick comedy persona. Here there was still some comedy in the drama, but it was of a different sort; more subdued, far cleverer with wit and sarcasm. Slapstick will get people’s attention, and you might have them for a brief time, but to be clever and witty, that might get people to listen. And I so very much wanted to be heard. I had a YAWP ready to burst free. It’s even come out on occasion. Be mindful, you might catch a very exclusive performance….somewhere…someday. Anyone can make noise. It’s the hard task of crafting thoughts into words, then into ideas that can truly make others pay attention, and in rare cases change a world. My love of language, literature and performing (though I don’t do it, much to my chagrin) still burns to this day. My witty, sarcastic sense of humor persists (much to the chagrin of others, I’m sure) and will continue for a long time. Oh how that humor has saved me, so many times. I won’t get into how it’s also got me into trouble a few times, that’s another story for another day. Life can be full of pain, it’s undeniable. A person’s reaction is the key. Sometimes there’s nothing else to do but laugh it out, laugh at it, laugh near it, or around it. Whether it comes from within you or someone else, that laughter can bring some respite, a bit of peace, so the pain isn’t so hard to bear. I’m also a fan of laughing at the pain, in defiance, as if to say “screw off, you do not control me.”
However, Robin Williams couldn’t laugh any longer, he had no more strength, the pain was too much. I won’t debate his choice here, that’s for another time and for other people. I will say that I have a very small inkling of the power in that dark abyss. So, now more than ever, I will keep on laughing, I will look for the humor, I will keep seeking beauty wherever I can, and find my voice, maybe even letting my YAWP out once in a while. Robin Williams contributed so many verses, many of which I have adapted into my own, to better contribute to the play.
I feel a bit daring.
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
