Robin Williams
I am not going to claim I was a big fan of Robin Williams. I didn’t rush to the TV if he was on. I guess he was a bit too energetically zany for me, albeit I did enjoy a few of his films of a more serious nature. Entertainment has improved a lot since I was young—so much so that I have grown somewhat immune to good movies, good political speeches, good orchestras, good plays, and so on. Perhaps this is just an age when ‘enough is enough’ everywhere we turn. My nature walks might just reflect how refreshing it is to just get away and wallow in the solitude of nature, to be alone with one’s thoughts, let one’s mind contemplate what life is, once was, but now become, and will soon cease to be, just like we always knew it would cease to be.
Robin Williams died, but it did seem so many had so much to say about the man. There must have been something about him that meant more to those whose path he directly crossed, than his performances. Maybe it was the way he died that made it such a big deal. Like if he could have just died from a plain ole heart attack or cancer, etc., it would be less of a big deal. Then again we live in an age where, for example, more American soldiers in Afghanistan died from suicide than from any battle deaths. What kind of wars have we gotten ourselves into? Well, not really ourselves, because there is no longer any draft, so not to worry ourselves. Is this good that we ‘use’ mercenaries to fight our current wars and the next generation to pay for them? Everywhere we turn, as I was saying, it seems enough is enough. I guess Robin Williams had enough of enough, even though he had plenty enough by any normal measure.
I stumbled on the following poem. Even though I am culturally retarded when it comes to poetry, something about this poem seems to stand out. While it is specifically about Robin Williams, it seems to apply to so many deaths we have grieved over in our past, including pets. When we tell someone our pet has died they cannot feel our grief without it having been their pet. The grief so many of those who knew Robin Williams well, was a grief that those of us who simply saw him perform, could not feel. Pets give us unremitting love, it doesn’t come in spurts depending on the moment, but just is always there, no matter how much of a jerk we might be at the moment. I guess many people felt that kind of love, concern, support, or whatever, from being around Robin Williams.
I recall a quote from Mario Cuomo: “Men and women rise to the top of their professions after years of struggling. But despite their apparent success, they are driven nearly mad by a frantic search for diversions, new mates, games, new experiences—anything to fill the diminishing interval between their existence and eternity—the way to serve yourself is to serve others; and that Aristotle was right, before them, when he said the only way to assure yourself happiness is to learn to give happiness.”
Apparently Robin thrived by giving happiness to others—that was his mode of living. With his career in a natural state of decline via aging, his opportunity to maintain this mode was also in decline. Depression is a broad term, and few probably escape it to some degree or another. Why do we have to die? Practically speaking, if we did not, it would be some sort of same old, same old, same old until we all got depressed enough to pull the plug. I guess the goal should be to pull the curtain down at just the right time. No suggestions are being solicited here.
https://www.yahoo.com/movies/aladdin-genie-voice-actor-performs-tribute-to-robin-95004397367.html
