My introduction to Studs Terkel was a monologue from Working that I used in high school for college auditions. A cop on the edge who got to say the F-word, just what a 17-year-old boy like myself wanted to scream. I was too young and naive to really appreciate how important those words are.
Moment of silence for Studs Terkel.
I loved his acting. I loved his philanthropy. Hell, I loved his Balsamic Vinaigrette and his salsa.
Moment of silence for one of the all time coolest guys ever, Paul Newman.
David Foster Wallace died a few days ago, and I’ve been reticent to post this moment of silence. I know very little about the man other than the voracious appetite that people smarter than I am have for his work.
However, I do know a little bit about fighting mental health issues. Depression is a serious illness, and Wallace, like many other geniuses before him, succumbed to it. Depression is beyond rationalization or logic, a difficult notion for those who are capable of putting words to the indescribable.
Life itself, though, is too great a thing for one mind to comprehend. At some point in every person’s time here, we give up trying.
Some become pleased with what they have.
Some come to accept the limit of their understanding.
Some offer everything beyond their comprehension to God.
And some, unfortunately, lack the capacity to bear the weight.
When a person of genius takes their own life, I would like to believe they were so humbled by the vastness of the universe that they succumbed to their own futility. A comforting thought, but a silly one. Truth is, no matter how big you may understand life to be, when you suffer from depression, the sadness is always bigger.
David Foster Wallace surely still had a lot to say about our world. To his legions of fans who are rereading everything he wrote, I promise to pick up that copy of Infinite Jest* and try again.
Moment of silence for David Foster Wallace.
*A coworker pointed out this article. I share something in common with the writer:
In his honor, I plan to, once again, crack open Infinite Jest, make it about 15 pages in, then give up (again) and start reading that copy of Star (again).
In a world… where a singular voice can embody an entire industry…, one man stood alone. As the movie makers threw bomb after bomb at him…, he rose up… to make all of those terrible films sound… interesting. That man… was… Don… LaFontaine.
Moment of silence for “Thunder Throat.”
P.S.: Watch this.
Isaac Hayes’ turn as Chef was a ballsy move. It was a great way to laugh at himself and still always be the character that knew more than anyone else. Scientology aside, Isaac Hayes was a bad mother… shut your mouth!
Moment of silence for Isaac Hayes.
I’ll let you in on a little secret: I always loved The Golden Girls. Who couldn’t love old women telling dirty jokes? Seriously.
Moment of silence for Estelle Getty.
P.S.: Let the obituaries titled “Thank you for being a friend” begin.
My iPod is full of classic Carlin, like this one. Thanks for provoking my thoughts and making me laugh the whole time.
Moment of silence for George Carlin.
del.icio.us