The Certainty of Death, The Uncertainty of Love

Originally Posted Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Oh Jesus how I wish I hadn't brought up Robin Williams' death.  My post wasn't about Robin Williams at all, really.  It was about something else entirely.  I'll say this, though.  If I had his money, I sure as hell wouldn't hang myself with a belt jammed into the closet door.  I just can't help but be reminded of David Carradine. 

Did I ever tell you about the time I had drinks at a friend's house with Robert Carradine and didn't know who he was for most of the night?  After awhile, though, I realized he was Keith's brother whose movies I loved.  It was after talking about that for half an hour that I realized Robert was the "third" brother and had been in a movie I really liked, "The Long Riders," with his siblings, which then led me to realize he had been in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," too.  We had been in a pissing match all night anyway, and he was a pretty clever guy, but he got even pissier after I recalled who he was because I had never seen "Revenge of the Nerds." 

"I made more money from that movie than Keith made on everything he has ever done."

I still haven't seen the movie.  Apparently I enjoy pissing off famous people.  I've done it enough.  It might be ego on my part, but I think it is probably more chemical.  Sometimes I don't really have to do anything at all. 

Friends have been writing and calling to tell me I need to hook up with Williams' daughter, Zelda.  A broker friend told me, "Where there is pain, there is opportunity."  I had to Google her.  O.K.  Let's let her get over her grief and settle the will, first.  Then perhaps. . . .

Death is just so inevitable.  Love, however, isn't.  I have a relative-in-law who is dying and nobody cares.  He's almost sixty and is a very bad alcoholic.  I don't think he has ever been in love.  His pain is so deep, I don't believe anyone could touch it.  He's not a bad guy, just small and avoidable, easily swept into a corner.  I'll bet even his closest family are "grieving" for Williams while he dies on the edges of their purposely peripheral vision. 

We live with the certainty of death and the uncertainty of love.  That is human existence in a nutshell.  I just wrote that there was something wrong with people who grieve for a public performance, but I changed my mind.  It is the right thing to do.  It is like grieving because they quit manufacturing something you really liked.  It is like being sad because they cancelled a favorite t.v. series.  It is like feeling strongly about the end of Polaroid film.  Those things actually make some sense.  Conflating the performance with the person performing, however. . . that's just really weird. . . unless you can make money from it.  Calling Dr. Phil. . . .  Where there is pain, there is opportunity. 

I'll just wait for the Robin Williams tribute at the Oscars which I won't see because I tune out after watching the red carpet pre-show and the show's opening monologue.

Whatever.  We know he was a good actor, for he appeared in a Woody Allen film.  I hope this is part of the tribute montage.