Tales of Avalon

On August 11, 2014, Robin Williams died at the age of 63 in his home. As the world mourns the passing of a great actor and comedian, I would like to leave you with my thoughts.

I first learned of Robin Williams when I was growing up. My parents wouldn’t let me watch modern SitComs, so the only channel they would let me watch that carried them was Nickelodeon, which ran late night comedies from the 1970’s (eventually, they would branch off and form their own network known as TV Land). I saw shows like I Love Lucy, The Jeffersons, and others, but the only ones I liked were Star Trek and Mork and Mindy.

I loved watching Mork and Mindy, mostly because I always felt like Mork. I was never popular as a kid, probably because I was the only one who wasn’t a Ghostbuster, Ninja Turtle, or Transformers fan, I always felt like an outsider, like an alien, especially when I would routinely transfer schools every year (not that my parents moved around, but because they’d usually not agree with the school administration or they didn’t feel like I was getting anything out of my eduction). I found solidarity in Mork. He was an outsider, forced to live and deal with all of us Earthlings because he couldn’t get home. I remember running around my living room, playing Mork and Mindy, crying out “nanu-nanu”, I would even do it at school, much to the strange looks I would get from my friends.

My second great encounter with Robin Williams came from his voice over work in Aladdin. His ability to mimic so many famous voices inspired me to do the same. I began to develop the ability to do impressions, change my voice to match several famous actors. Ironically, may years later, I would end up visiting Fox News Studios in New York and getting to tour the facility after my father ended up talking to one of their production assistants on a flight from Houston to New York. I ended up on one of the sound stages on the tour, popping up to the mic and doing a few impressions for them. I remember hearing her say, “Please tell me you were recording that,” to one of the sound stage supervisors. It would be wrong and unfair to say that I learned impressions on my own, because I didn’t. I learned from the best. I learned from watching and listening to Robin Williams.

The third encounter was with an old audio book that I still have, that most people have probably never heard about, The Fool and the Flying Ship. It’s a story that’s not all that different from the film Baron Munchausen, but instead of a braggart Baron, it is about a young man who seeks his fortune, meeting a plethora of super human characters along the way and befriending them. I remember Robin’s voice work, how each and every one sounded different. He breathed life into them, made them feel real. I still have that tape lying around somewhere in my parent’s house, and it’s still one of my favorites.

I, of course, saw many of his films. His humor shaping my own. He isn’t the only inspiration, but I must say, he’s certainly one of my biggest influences when it comes to comedic writing.

It is unfortunate that I was never able to meet Robin Williams in person. I would have loved to have met him. I would have loved to shake his hand, to tell him how much of an inspiration he is to me. We all will miss him, but those he touched the deepest, will miss him the most.

Good bye, Robin Williams. We laughed with you, we cried with you. You gave us some of the most memorable characters in television and cinema. You came to visit us in Iraq and Afghanistan, helping us laugh when we needed it the most. We ran around our living rooms saying “nanu-nanu”, we stood on our desks shouting “Oh Captain, My Captain”, we cried as you left Aladdin to see the world as a freed genie, we listened to your every word in Dead Poets Society and Good Will Hunting, we rooted for you in Hook, Jumanji, and Mrs. Doubtfire. Your time with us on this earth was brief, but we will never forget you. Your life was an inspiration to millions. Your bright eyes and heartwarming smile made us remember that every day was special. You gathered your rosebuds while ye may, and gave them to the world. Carpe Diem, Robin Williams. You made your life extraordinary, and we will be eternally grateful for it.

-Karl