A lingering music

The time has come when I read a name in breaking news and I'm thinking, no, not dead, not dead, and the next line is always “died at xx of xxx”.

When I recall Robin Williams I remember him in two things, both movies. One in Mrs Doubtfire when he says something snarky to Pierce Brosnan and I thought, Wow, that was real, no acting there. It wasn't the jealous husband he was playing at that moment, it was like he was looking at someone who had every physical advantage he did not, who was on top of that, a genuinely nice guy with no demons chasing his every waking hour. At least that's what I saw. Then in Good Will Hunting, where he plays a therapist but he's darker than his patient; again, real.

His manic but brilliant comic persona was disquieting, funny but it kept me at the edge of my seat and that's not the kind of thing you enjoy.

His problems with drugs and alcohol are well-documented and he, obviously, wanted an end to his particular suffering. That's a pain that no one, lover, friend, parent can know because each man's pain is uniquely his own. You ask, why would a man so venerated and talented, with a loving family, do such a thing? There is absolutely no answer to that question. People do what they feel compelled to do. In the dark, in the quiet, when you are alone with yourself, you may be overwhelmed by what you have become. It's something, often, that no one else can see.

Why did Tony Scott park his car, walk resolutely to that bridge and, in the chilling words of an eye-witness, jump into a river with no hesitation whatsoever? Why did Anderson Cooper's brother jump off a balcony in front of his mother? And these are famous people, not the unsung and unknown legions who have also found salvation in death.

I've always thought it's better to be dumb, self-deluded and religious-minded than grappling with existentialism. How simple life is, then. You wake in the morning thinking of manis and pedis, or the next corporate takeover where you, being naturally brilliant, will triumph, and then off you go to church every Sunday where you can sneak a look at your mistress in the pews. Simple.

For others, of course, not so much. 

I like knowing at least Robin Williams left a legacy, which is something very few of us can say. Who will ever forget Dead Poets Society and Good Morning,Vietnam? That's a lingering music that will only come to an end when the world does.