I Will Miss Him

It may sound weird for a Christian to say, but a drugged out, out of his mind, improv comedian was one of my heroes growing up.

Robin Williams introduced me to improvisation, something I never quite grasped as a child, even as an adolescent.  By the time I finished college, it was finally becoming engrained.  Eventually, as an adult, I use improvisation every day.  Not to make people laugh, but make decisions quickly in the medical field.  Robin Williams is responsible for that.  Remember that if I ever have to do CPR on you.

I saw Mork and Mindy, and thought it was entertaining.  It doesn't surprise me that the best stuff never made it on the air.  When I first heard  "Reality...What A Concept!",  I was hooked.  I wore that cassette tape out, figuring out what he said and why, memorizing to the point where I actually performed a G-rated version of his Mr. Rogers routine in High School.

Most comedians told you jokes and made you laugh.  Robin Williams made funny an every day thing.  My best friend growing up, David Relue, did it better than I did, much more organic.  I never stopped learning, stole some of my best stuff, and eventually could write my own.  It taught me a style of thinking that was slightly in the box, slightly out of the box.

It was good enough to let me play college golf at Purdue, and realize a dream of being a golf professional.  Eventually, it worked it's way into my coaching style, and has affected how I coach and the way I teach things.  It could have an effect of resonating through the kids I have touched.  If that doesn't scare you, I'm not sure what else would.

Robin Williams' work came into my life at a time of great pain.  Most of my athletic dreams went up in smoke with the diagnosis of Perthes Disease at age 10.  The three years in leg braces and the corresponding physical changes ended any opportunity of reaching those baseball or football related dreams.  Humor became my defense against the anguish of knowing I could never do what I really dreamed of doing.  I could scarcely open my mouth without trying to say something funny.   I'm not going to share the specifics here.  Some pain never goes away.

Robin Williams helped me find some new dreams because the road just changed course a little and you had to adjust to where it was going.  I never quite fulfilled those dreams either, but I did better than I ever should have.  It seems an odd tribute to Robin Williams, but who else would have appreciated it more?

Robin's hero growing up was Jonathan Winters.  Winters and Williams eventually became great friends.  Winters dealt with the pain of a difficult childhood through humor.  Williams, as far as I know, never publicly shared his pain.  He eventually took his own life in response to that pain.  Some pain never goes away.

In "Reality...What A Concept!", Williams introduced the character named Grandpa Funk.  He had been at Woodstock and had seen the best brains of his time turn to mud then.  He closed the act with these words, "Keep the spirit of madness in you, just a little touch of it.  How much?  Just enough so you don't become stupid.  My love goes with you."

Mine too, Robin.  Thanks.