I always try to recall an anecdote about him revealing what I know. The word reveal reminding me of his Revelations Tour he embarked on before we met.
I read something recently for the first time that made me sigh. In 1994, as he lay dying at his parent’s home in Little Rock, Arkansas he apparently said, “We’ll all laugh together again…in heaven.”
Made me think of the many times he made me roll on the floor whether it was on stage or snuggled in bed. The random things striking him funny, passed on to me.
Back then I was so serious caring only about…does he think I’m hot…does he think I’m sexy? Am I prettier than all those other girls?
You have to be alive a half century before you get, your ego is your own worst enemy and how it wildly, wastes your time.
Bill knew that at such a tender age which allowed him to plow through anything standing in his way.
People think it was always so easy for him…but it isn’t true…he had his trials…his critics. There isn’t a comedian on earth, or off of it, who hasn’t suffered for his art.
I heard someone say how Louis CK was an overnight sensation. I can promise you, he’d beg to differ.
Bill was one of the few people who told me I was smart.
“Me smart? Come on.”
“Ya think a’d waste ma time with sum clueless bimbo? I’m a busa guy bay-ba.”
There I’d be in all my shallow glory, wondering, did he mean that?
The things he loved about me were funny to me then. That I liked to read and watch multiple movies. I preferred to walk than take cabs. I could sit in a club watching him do three shows in a row happier than I’ve ever been, just for the privilege.
We were in Montreal for their annual comedy festival where the women came out in droves…gifts, notes, flowers, food…panties sprayed with…I’d get mad and say insecticide…shoved in cards and Playboy magazines.
One woman the size of a sequoia walked right up to him, grabbed him by the crotch and said, “How’s my sweet onion?”
I was aghast.
He swore he had never seen her before and naturally, wanting it to be true, believed him. But now, over 20 years later, know she was a coquette in his coterie of maids preceding me.
Bill, I always end my yearly essay talking directly to you.
It’s because of you I believe so strongly in energy, since so often feel you around. Could be anywhere…a place we went to, or a new one we had never been…when suddenly there’s a familiar warmth, like your arm just circled my waist.
You left the planet 20 years ago at 32 years of age…I’ve lived 28 years longer than that and there is never a day I don’t ask myself…
I can speak for many Bill when I say…we miss you.
Bill Hicks would have been 53 years-old today.