Norm Macdonald Has the Robin Williams Story to Beat All
For the next however-long-it-takes-us-to-heal, we'll be eulogizing Robin Williams. For anyone who has a heart, it's a normal occurrence that one might feel sympathy, and empathy, and some pretty real feelings, even if we didn't know the person. That's hard for us, but to those who knew him and loved him on a personal level? The loss must be staggering, and Norm Macdonald wants the world to know that Robin wasn't just in it for himself, either -- Robin seemed to feel for everyone he came in contact with, and Norm, during his first appearance on the David Letterman show, wasn't an exception.
From Norm's Twitter:
"It was my first stand-up appearance on Letterman and I had to follow the funniest man in the world. I was a punk kid from rural Ontario and I was in my dressing room, terrified. I was on the phone to a friend back home when the funniest man in the world ambled by. There was no one else on the floor. In shock, I told my friend who just walked by. Only the funniest man in the world. I guess he heard me say his name, cause in an instant he was at my side.
He was a Jewish tailor, taking my measurements. He went down on his knees, asked which way I dressed. I told my friend on the phone that the funniest man in the world was on his knees before me, measuring my inseam. My friend didn't believe me, so I said, 'Could you talk to my friend, sir?' The funniest man in the world took the phone and for ten minutes took my friend's Chinese food order. I laughed and laughed and it was like I was in a dream because no one else was there. No one. The place was out of Moo Shoo Pork, and there was nothing he could do about it. He angrily hung up on my friend and I was about to thank him when he said I hadn't even tried the jacket on.
Then the funniest man on earth dressed me, a complete stranger, and I remember he ended with a windsor knot. He spoke mostly yiddish, but when he finished he was happy with his job and turned me to a mirror to present myself to me.
No one witnessed any of this. No one. The funniest man alive was in my dressing room a good half-hour and was far funnier than the set I had to do soon. All of a sudden it was 'had to.' When he left my dressing room, I felt alone. As alone as I ever remember feeling.
We know how you feel, Norm.