Life! Death! (Really)
I don’t think it’s entirely selfish to find a sense of one’s own life in somebody else’s death. I don’t mean it in the Hallmark way that’s portrayed in soundbites where “it really makes you appreciate every day.” That’s bullshit to me. You can’t live every day like it’s your last; sometimes you just have to do laundry.
But you don’t have to choose to make a day your last, and sadly –tragically– that’s what Richard Jeni did a few days ago.
I met Richard briefly several years ago. I was at a party at his house. I knew some friends of his and got myself invited over. I said a polite hello and “thanks for having me,” but didn’t really engage him. I was shy around famous people, especially the comedians I admired. I guess I was afraid they’d reveal how different they were from me, or even scarier, how similar they were, and that it really just took lots of hard work and tough knocks to make it. Anyhow, I stayed out of his way but I noticed that Richard seemed to be more of an observer to his party than a participant. The actual phrase I used to describe him at the time was a ghost in his own home.
Even if I’d known Richard better, I wouldn’t pretend to know exactly what motivates a man to end his life. I do know a little bit about a drive to do comedy and I know a little bit about depression. As a younger man, I would sometimes toy with suicidal thoughts. Only once, a lifetime ago, was I even close to being serious about it, and fortunately I got help. Since then, like a window frame you just can’t caulk, a little wisp of a breeze will sneak through my mind and whisper its stupid “solution” to my temporary pain.
This weekend I was grateful for the tight seal. I was in a real funk, mostly unresponsive and unmotivated. Taking advantage of life in New York only inasmuch as I was having everything delivered to the agitated comfort of my apartment. The crap piled up and the TV kept me nice and numb.
So when I got the news about Richard, I was sad, shocked, confused… and then strangely… grateful –not that he was gone (God, no!) But grateful that I could feel that he was gone. That I could remember a man and feel compassion. That the brief eye contact we made in his home that day –a moment of connection I’m sure he’d long forgotten– stayed with me, penetrated my funk and my heart. That’s what made me feel alive and able to put the boat back in on my river.
Life is difficult. Suicide isn’t painless for those it leaves behind. Even those who already saw you as a ghost.
As a side note… A couple years after that party, I pleaded myself into a date with Richard’s ex-girlfriend. It was horribly uncomfortable, mainly because she was way too pretty for me and I kept reminding myself how much less money I made than her ex. This is an awesome strategy for destroying self-confidence and reeking of “please don’t sleep with me” musk.
Once again, I am amazed at your openness and thank you for sharing with us readers. I’ll admit I shed a tear or two whilst reading your latest blurb (and since I recently had LASIK surgery, that’s a good thing since the tears help my sometimes dry and sore eyes!) Apart from the fact that my comic delivery doesn’t extend far beyond an occasional knock-knock joke, I can personally relate to virtually everything you expressed. What blows me away is that I have been on a happy-go-lucky streak for quite some time, yet this past weekend I, too, hit a bit of a slump. In fact, I was tuning in to the GSRSGS on Saturday in hopes of having a few laughs to help elevate me from the fog. (Any inflicted sense of guilt is completely unintentional. My intention is to convey a sense of appreciation for what you to and to encourage you to keep it up!) But, is it a coincidence that our funks coincided with one another? I can’t help but think this is an example of global consciousness at work. And since you and I live in the same city, it’s more of a neighborhood consciousness! I’ve had some odd “coincidences” with close friends in my life this week as well. Something’s up with the Universe, imo!
Another coincidence – and I may lose you here – I’m watching “The View” as I type this and the gang is talking about Richard Jeni and depression in general. IMO, there is a kind of beauty in the fact that his death sparked a revival in you. It’s an example of how truly amazing it is that a life can impact that of a virtual stranger. The cycle of life. I’d like to think Richard Jeni, or maybe his family, finds some solace in that in some way. He was a funny guy fo’ sho!
I agree with you about the BS regarding the theory of “living each day as if it were your last.” To build on your theme, the trick is to find happiness even when doing laundry. Life is made of great moments, and dull daily duties. It’s shaped by joyous moments and debilitating ones. A life without tears – whether for happy reasons or sad – is not a life worth living.
Anyway, glad to hear you’re back!! Go hug the kitties at Ollie’s and share the love with the fur balls!