Remembering Robin Williams
I'm going to fly in the face of the countless blogs, editorials, think pieces, and soapbox psychologists. Rather than climb on their bandwagon and preach all-knowingly about alphabet diseases of the mind to further some blatant self-serving agenda, I'm going to just remember the guy I knew that lived inside the TV set, and on the movie screen.
The weirdguy that arrived in Mindy's parent's music shop one quiet afternoon. The poetry teacher that inspired a class of impressionable kids. A ground breaking doctor. The mourning husband that rescued his wife from hell. The psychologist that turned a math prodigy's life around. The voice of robots, and genies. A grown up Peter Pan.
I introduced our children to Mork and Mindy about six months ago. In the titles of the first episode, we glimpsed Mork sitting upside down on a couchhis head buried in the cushions. Miss Eight almost exploded;“Hey! I do that!“He had her in the first seconds of the titles of the show. She sat entranced for the 20 minute episode, bursting into raucous laughter from time to time. She will carry him with her for the rest of her life.