784 Reads | Published over 7 years ago
I've grown up around his work, and I've been mesmerized by his way with people. As a child, I was a goofball but it didn't endear me to anyone. My strangely intense knowledge of the Star Wars and Bionicle universes did not help me to garner friends, and my shenanigans often ended up humorous at my own expense. Being a goofball didn't seem to help me get by.
But then I watched Patch Adams.
"What's wrong with death sir? What are we so mortally afraid of? Why can't we treat death with a certain amount of humanity and dignity, and decency, and God forbid, maybe even humor. Death is not the enemy gentlemen. If we're going to fight a disease, let's fight one of the most terrible diseases of all, indifference."
But then I watched Alladin.
"But, oh, to be free! Not to have to go "Poof! What do you need?", "Poof! What do you need?", "Poof! What do you need?" To be my own master. Such a thing would be greater than all the magic and all the treasures in all the world! But what am I talking about? Let's get real here, it's not gonna happen. Genie, wake up and smell the hummus."
But then I watched Good Will Hunting.
"So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much."
But then I watched What Dreams May Come.
"Thank you for every kindness. Thank you for our children. For the first time I saw them. Thank you for being someone I was always proud to be with. For your guts, for your sweetness. For how you always looked, for how I always wanted to touch you. God, you were my life. I apologize for everytime I ever failed you. Especially this one..."
I guess you can be a goofball and have meaningful expressions at the same time.