The weirdest coincidences always happen to me.  I get on weird, quote-y kicks like some people get songs stuck in their heads.  (That happens too.)  This last week or so I've been paraphrasing the fuck out of "The Birdcage". 

"Men smear"
"YEAH, Smeeeeear".

Not the more famous "I pierced the toast".  Naturally.

Now, *my* friends can do the call and response where I say the first bit and they follow with the "Smeeeear".  It's what nerdy kids do.  I've had to explain it to my girlfriend a couple of times before sending her the link to the scene, which was finally the "Aha" moment as to what the hell I was talking about when I'd be buttering an English Muffin and muttering under my breath: "Yeaaaah, smeeear."  This has been my weirdness the last two weeks. 

And then I read that Robin Williams is dead.

This is one of those weird times when I'm really, really upset about a celebrity passing. For me (personally) it was about my identity as a kid.  Because even though I watched a lot of movies and TV, and "Mork" was part of that line-up...I had a part of my brain that knew cartoons about flying Spider-Men, lightsabers weren't real, perfect nuclear families in the 50's all were make-believe?  There was something like kinship for the fake-alien who ran around and stood on his head and made weird noises.  Who did impressions to make his friend smile.  Who went to a dark room to talk to "Orson", when (in my kidbrain) I thought he was probably just having make-believe conversations with himself to figure things out.

I mean, I did that sometimes.  As...a kid.  Yeah.

I ran around and drove my family crazy.  Parents and teachers would make comments (some good some bad) about my "energy".  How I had fun doing "voices". (Seriously.  It was on an early pre-school report card)  My friends all thought I was "weird".   But during that half hour, I'd play with an old L'Eggs pantyhose egg and a "Starbuck" action figure that my mom let me paint to look like Mork and I'd watch the show and feel like there was someone kind of like me.  Before I knew what that even meant.

So as I got older and you start watching his movies and stand-up (and quoting both),  you appreciate how their comedy comes across and (for me) how I identified with his patter.  And I laughed a lot.  Eventually you learn more about their personal life- their struggle with addiction. You get interested in theater which is your weirdness outlet and how THEY started in theater and you start to learn about their "process", and there was more and more I could identify with:  "Throwing hundreds  of jokes out there and only a couple stick, but you have to keep throwing them out there and trying".  "I tend to be more serious during comedies and during serious dramas ('One Hour Photo' and 'The Fisher King') I'm usually riffing to the crew in between takes."

And the guy went to Julliard?
And he was bff's with Superman?
And (when interviewed about taking an extremely small role in "Dead Again"- at a time when ostensibly he was one of the HUGEST marquee stars in America) about the time he said it's important to find interesting characters and not limit yourself.

Where was I?  Riffing?  Rambling?  Typical. 

When *I* get the opportunity to film/commercial work, I like having the crew as my audience.  I talk with the guys between takes.  Not flying off to ignore them because I'm more important.  If there's supposed to be a scene where I need to riff/wax tangential it feels cathartic...like a dam bursting.  And if the crew is laughing you're probably doing something right.  At the very least, maybe they want you back.

I just wish I was better at writing all that stuff down.

I didn't have posters of Mork or Aladdin up on my wall like some kids idolize favorite player/sportsball team.  I just had a handful of comedians and actors who I'd try and copy when I was a little kid.  (To my parents/coaches occasional chagrin.  There's only so many ways you can try and tell a 12-year-old Mikey that the very "blue" Buddy Hackett "wax job" routine isn't one you should repeat to Gramma Rose.)  And later on when you start doing it seriously, you remember pieces here and there that you pick up from guys like Mr. Williams.  In spite of not being what a lot of people might consider a hero (his charity work with Comic Relief and post 9/11 volunteering as two examples notwithstanding.), at the very least the light and laughter he provided will be deeply, deeply missed.

And I'm very upset.  Because when you feel this weird sense of isolation because people look at you like you're weird and talk too much and say things that don't make sense to them.  Because you have so much rambling through your brain that you would spin in circles until you fell over hoping the words would come out.  Or you'd stand on your head.  Or jump up and down.  Or do impressions.  Or write your feelings.  Or fall in love because there's nothing better than hearing your partner laugh at something you've said, or having them love you in spite of all the weirdness.

I think if you've read this, or know me, then you probably get where I'm coming from.  For my part, I'm going to keep riffing.  And try and keep some of that light spread out in the world.

This picture, because it has a lot of funny.