Monday, August 11, 2014

"So's this your main gig?"

Hey, kids.

I realize I haven't written in over a year and a half. I know. What's worse is that this is going to be the third blog in a row about death. I know. It's a bummer. And why should I be motivated to write by the loss of others? I don't know. All I know is that I want to share this story in its entirety.

It was June of 2002, I was in college and working part time as a security guard for concerts and conventions. I'd been doing it for a little less than a year and must've made some sort of positive impression on my bosses. I called in to schedule some work just like any other time, when my boss gave me the assignment I couldn't have imagined...

Well, that's not entirely true. I'd been arms-length from Elton John at one point previous, but whether Elton knew I was there is unlikely (and an entirely different story that I'll gladly tell you in-person).

My boss told me, while I restrained my joy, that I was to go down to the San Diego Civic Theatre at 4pm, or something like that, early for a show that doesn't start till 8-9pm, that I will be the only one there and that I will be guarding Robin Williams's dressing room. Robin was coming off of doing press for his villain films (Insomnia and One Hour Photo) and gearing up to do his Live On Broadway HBO special.

I got there on-time but I do remember calling the office to figure out how to get in the building. Not many people were there. Just crew guys, lighting & sound, getting things right. I can't recall how I found my way to the dressing room. I think I had to relieve someone who had been there since the early morning. That poor bastard. He didn't get any of the fun I was in for.

I get back to the room and the door was open so of course I looked in. What do Oscar winners eat? There was a simple food platter. Fruits and whatnot, and water I'm sure. Things seem to calm down at that point and I remember the crew heading out. So there I was, in coat and tie, 19 years old, and not a damned thing to do.

It must've been around 6pm that things started to stir again. The crew came back to check their stuff again and up walks Robin's tour manager, whose name escapes me. He tells me that there will be people who have meet and greet privileges and they should have this sort of sticker or whatever. I'm sure I paid close attention to these instructions but I remember that basically everyone was okay to be back where I was. Doubtful I was going to have to physically remove anyone.

I believe Robin and his wife walked in shortly after that. Robin talked with the crew as though he knew all of them, which at the time I assumed he did, but how could he? They're just union guys in San Diego on a gig like any other. They weren't traveling around the country with him. I remember his wife walked up first. She must've seen the earnest thought about asking to see her credentials in my eyes when she introduced herself as Robin's wife, Marsha. I believe I shook her hand and let her by. Robin came up shortly after with his tour manager, who introduced us. He gave me a warm smile from beneath that famous pointed nose. My hands were so sweaty that I didn't dare reach out to shake his, but I'm sure he would've gladly obliged. I also hadn't become jaded yet and felt some need to remain professional and distant.

They went back into the dressing room and shut the door, while I maintained my post. A little while later their two small children were brought in. Zelda, a 13 year old punk girl in Doc Martens, and Cody, a shy little guy about 7 years old. Zelda also had a friend with her. Zelda seemed "old hat" about this whole setup, never keeping her voice down around me (the stranger) and even engaging me in conversation. I remember telling her that I had just worked a Britney Spears concert the week prior (my attempt to relate to a 13 year old girl) and her rolling her eyes (good for you!). She was so much cooler than me in retrospect.

Robin popped out again and talked to more crew guys at one point. And not just talked to them but was "on" for them. Some might think that inhuman but it was actually a gift. They work their butts off for him, he's gonna make them laugh their asses off. It was nice. I remember they talked a lot about the World Cup, which had been going on, and Robin having been a soccer player growing up had a lot to say. He popped back in his dressing room as the crowd dissipated.

People would drop by to say hello, of course none of them having any credentials or the appropriate stickers, and I would just give them a once over and let 'em by. I was vigilant but too nice for security.

It was about an hour/hour and a half before the show, when things got quiet again. At this point Robin popped out of the dressing room and quietly began to survey the various posters on the wall, which were all from cast and crew parties from shows past. Broadway-type productions mostly, particularly one of Hello Dolly with Carol Channing. I knew when I first saw it myself that if I pointed it out to Robin, I'd get an immediate Carol Channing impression which I'd seen him do on TV somewhere.

Keep in mind that I knew that I was going to be guarding Robin William's dressing room. This wasn't sprung on me. So I'd already thought up some ice breakers should the chance arrive to use them. I was after all, more than just some meathead security guard. I was in college, studying FILM (technically I was still undeclared)! Robin's an Oscar winner! We'll get along swimmingly! If anything, I actually predicted he'd hiss and make a cross with his fingers to ward me off like a vampire. But I was prepared is my point, to be bros with Robin.

So he's looking at these photos and no one's around and he eventually sits down on the steps directly in front of me and says, "So's this your main gig?"

This would have been the perfect moment to say that I was in college at SDSU and see where that goes. Instead of course I misunderstood the question and replied, "Well we work conventions mostly. And concerts. That's my bread and butter." I could hear myself say these things in horror. Because the implication of the statement is that I enjoy working concerts better than anything else. Including THIS SHOW NOW. YOUR SHOW. Not to mention that it implies that I have nothing else going on in my life.

Robin responds with an, "Ah..." and then gets up to look at some more pictures. The ones right next me, in fact. In my head I'm yelling at myself, "SAY THAT YOU'RE HAPPY TO BE WORKING THIS SHOW AT LEAST!" I also began to realize that he had asked me the softball question I had been waiting for. At that moment Robin is looking at the Hello Dolly photo, and I say, "I didn't think she [Carol Channing] wore that outfit all the time [the outfit she always wore on TV, the white thing, I saw her on the Muppets or Hollywood Squares]."

Robin kept looking at the photo, as though he hadn't spotted her yet, and then must've saying, "There she iszzzth" in the impression I had expected. He quietly, I can't stress this enough (how quiet he could be), walked back into his dressing room and shut the door.

I didn't see him again till about show time. I could hear the crowd assembled and waiting. He stepped out of the dressing room, after kissing his wife, and walked to a sound man waiting in the wings. The sound man needed Robin to lift his shirt so he could strap a couple of lav mics across Robin's chest. Robin looked right at me and lifted his shirt up on both sides. His face looked like that of a child while their mother is wiping dirt off their face with a spit rag. It was priceless and Robin was doing it for me and I burst out laughing. Me, the dumb asshole, who couldn't get out of his own head enough to have a conversation with a personal hero and a legend.

I still remember the show he put on. It was hard for me to hear it exactly as I stood in the wings because I was hearing both the house sound and the monitors and they were echoing off each other. He had a big chunk about the World Cup and he also had a piece specific to San Diego. During prom season that year, a local assistant principle at a high school (I think she was the AP, fuck her rank, right? You'll see...) was making all the girls attending the prom lift up their dresses in what they were told was a "thong check." Reprehensible to say the least. But comedy gold, absolutely. These topics of course didn't make the HBO special. Still Robin put out an hour and half of what seemed both like completely polished and completely improvised material and sweated enough to fill a kiddie pool. He may have drunk 15 bottles of water while on stage too.

He came off to riotous applause, congrats from his manager and his wife. He met with select guests, as this was a theater and not a club, after a change of clothes. I had no idea who was allowed and who wasn't but it never got crazy. Maybe 15 people all told. After that, he grabbed his clothes, wife, and kids and headed out. We nodded goodbyes at one another and he was gone.

It is devastating to think that he is gone for good today. Of course I've had fantasies about meeting Robin again telling him the story of what happened and what an idiot I'd been. And we'd laugh. I'm sure he would've. I'm sure I'm not the only one. The closest I came to seeing him again was at Meltdown Comics. I can't even remember what show I was there for but I remember there being a buzz of "Robin was just here" and thinking "Oh shit, maybe he'll be on the show!" Unfortunately he wasn't. It is a comic book store, he was likely just shopping.

As much as I wish I could've run into him and recounted this tale, I am all there more shocked at the idea that he could've taken his own life, as the reports are saying so far. It's hard to believe that a guy so funny could be in that much pain. But I know that even I, nowhere near as funny, but generally well liked, have days where I don't know how people tolerate me, that I don't do enough "good," or that I don't like where I'm at. I guess if there's one thing to take from my story is to talk to people about your feelings. If I had stopped Robin and been honest about how nervous I was, he'd have understood. We could've laughed about that. Another thing to be learned, is to be easy on yourself (myself). Yeah, I blew that interaction somewhat. It's not the only one (*cough* Rob Delaney, that was worse actually). And it's not the end of the world. In fact, it's life! Mess some stuff up. It's a story to tell.

R.I.P. Robin Williams