Short entry tonight. I'm leaving (with wife and kid) to NYC for a long weekend early tomorrow morning. It should be a good time, which is good. I could use some fun. News this week has been pretty shitty, huh? The big thing, of course, is the tragedy that unfolded (and is continuing to unfold) in Ferguson, Missouri. I have neither the time nor the energy to get into my thoughts on that.
The other thing is that Robin Williams died. Williams death made me much sadder than a typical celebrity death. This isn't because I was a big Robin Williams fan. On the contrary, I was ahead of my time with the "Robin Williams: Not that Funny" fad. Relatively recently, he started to get called out a bit as being overrated or whatnot (Family Guy did an entire episode satirizing him), but I was saying it back in 1993 when I saw (and didn't laugh at) Mrs. Doubtfire. He's just not my style of comedian. Even his old stand-up that other people who didn't like his movies swore I would like, I didn't like. But personal comedic styling aside, he seemed like a pretty good dude; he was obviously incredibly talented and beloved; and he was, in my opinion, an excellent serious actor (I have a big soft spot for Goodwill Hunting). It's a shame he's gone so soon.
His death affected me for two reason:
1) He was one of the first celebrities -- maybe the first celebrity -- to come into my consciousness. Some of my earliest memories are of watching Mork & Mindy on a big transformer-sized TV we had in our basement. His death reminds me how long ago that was and makes me think of my own mortality (and now that I have a kid that gets ratcheted up tenfold).
2) He committed suicide and suffered from depression. Mental illness is an area where my views have changed drastically over time. Back in my idealistic (and unrealistic) libertarian teen years I thought it was basically BS, and that people could be happy if they were truly willing to fight through it. In college, when I actually became friends with somebody who had depression issues, it just confused me ("But you have an awesome girlfriend, how can you be sad all the time?"). And now I understand that it's a disorder like any other disorder. You can't fix it by "fighting through it" anymore than you can diabetes. You need proper treatment.
As mental illness becomes less stigmatized (even among tough guy athletes) and more and more people open up about it, I realize how many people I know -- how many people I love, family and friends -- who suffer from it in some form or another. Many of these people I had no idea about and wouldn't ever have suspected had they not told me. Outwardly everything seemed fine. And so when I hear about somebody who ostensibly had a great life committing suicide, it hits home a lot harder than it did in the past.
And on that somber note, I have to split. Until next time ...
The other thing is that Robin Williams died. Williams death made me much sadder than a typical celebrity death. This isn't because I was a big Robin Williams fan. On the contrary, I was ahead of my time with the "Robin Williams: Not that Funny" fad. Relatively recently, he started to get called out a bit as being overrated or whatnot (Family Guy did an entire episode satirizing him), but I was saying it back in 1993 when I saw (and didn't laugh at) Mrs. Doubtfire. He's just not my style of comedian. Even his old stand-up that other people who didn't like his movies swore I would like, I didn't like. But personal comedic styling aside, he seemed like a pretty good dude; he was obviously incredibly talented and beloved; and he was, in my opinion, an excellent serious actor (I have a big soft spot for Goodwill Hunting). It's a shame he's gone so soon.
His death affected me for two reason:
1) He was one of the first celebrities -- maybe the first celebrity -- to come into my consciousness. Some of my earliest memories are of watching Mork & Mindy on a big transformer-sized TV we had in our basement. His death reminds me how long ago that was and makes me think of my own mortality (and now that I have a kid that gets ratcheted up tenfold).
2) He committed suicide and suffered from depression. Mental illness is an area where my views have changed drastically over time. Back in my idealistic (and unrealistic) libertarian teen years I thought it was basically BS, and that people could be happy if they were truly willing to fight through it. In college, when I actually became friends with somebody who had depression issues, it just confused me ("But you have an awesome girlfriend, how can you be sad all the time?"). And now I understand that it's a disorder like any other disorder. You can't fix it by "fighting through it" anymore than you can diabetes. You need proper treatment.
As mental illness becomes less stigmatized (even among tough guy athletes) and more and more people open up about it, I realize how many people I know -- how many people I love, family and friends -- who suffer from it in some form or another. Many of these people I had no idea about and wouldn't ever have suspected had they not told me. Outwardly everything seemed fine. And so when I hear about somebody who ostensibly had a great life committing suicide, it hits home a lot harder than it did in the past.
And on that somber note, I have to split. Until next time ...
For me, Robin Williams earned a career's-worth of goodwill for "Dead Poet's Society." It will stand right next to "Good Will Hunting" in how I'll remember him.
ReplyDeleteI should go back and rewatch that one. I remember liking it, but it was tainted because I saw it in English class taught by a guy who so wanted to be O Captain My Captain and just wasn't... He later ran off to Idaho be with an ex-student who was 19; he was 53. True story.
ReplyDeleteOh, and they were probably "dating" while she was in his class. I remember him making some comments about sex and drugs that I just thought were kinda odd at the time, that I now realize were wildly inappropriate.
ReplyDeleteI guess your teacher aced the "get run off by the school" part right, but not the "inspire your students" part. He was no John Keating!
ReplyDelete