The monsoon has arrived.
Not in Los Angeles, of course, but in the desert to the east. The clouds squat over the horizon, threatening.
We don’t get the desperately needed rain, but we do get the heat and humidity.
Of course, I’ve been working a lot of long days outside (or in un-airconditioned warehouses, which is pretty much the same thing).
After 14 hours in 100 degree heat I can’t manage to do anything other than come home, take a cold shower and try to find space in the fridge to sleep.
I’d cry, but my tears are too hot.
I was trying to figure out how to write yet another apology post when Twitter blew up with something I so desperately hoped was another celebrity death hoax.
I’ve worked with Robin Williams several times over the years, most recently on the TV show The Crazy Ones. He was an unfailingly nice guy – and I don’t mean celebrity nice.
Really nice. He was a fellow cyclist and we talked about bike trips, the virtues and drawbacks of front racks, and where best to store bananas so they didn’t get all squishy and leaky.
He was like this with everyone – genuinely friendly and interested in whatever everyone else was doing with their lives.
Everyone who ever met him loved him.
It’s been one rotation of the planet – from light to dark and back into light, and I’m still completely devastated.
It tears my heart out that this beautiful person, beloved by so many, in the end, felt he had nowhere to turn and no one to help him.
I can wish all I want that he’d called someone – anyone – and tried to find his way into the approaching light.
But he didn’t.
Meanwhile, we continue to fly through the indifferent void of space as our seven billion little fiefdoms on the pale blue dot rotate into and out of the light.
That’s life. Dark and light, dark and light, dark and light.
Approximately 30,000 people in the United States commit suicide every year.
30,000 souls feel that there is no more rotation and the dark is unending.
Yes, I know that suicidally depressed people aren’t exactly rational, but their friends and family are.
So don’t pass by. Don’t turn your head away and tell yourself it’s none of your business. Get involved. Ask if someone needs help. Listen if they want to talk.
Help them see the light again.
We all owe that to Robin.