10 years ago today, Chris Farley died.
Wow. I can't believe how the time has gone. What a tremendous talent that guy was. In reading interviews with his fellow "Saturday Night Live" alumni, all of them talked about how Farley was always the funniest person in the room, and the person to whom their eyes were drawn when he was onscreen. He was so much fun to watch.
A few months before he died, though, I remember sitting in my college dorm, drinking beer and watching the episode of "Saturday Night Live" which he hosted. I vividly remember having a friend of mine named Jason walk into the room, look at the screen, and say, "Wow. That guy's going to be dead soon." He was right. Farley wore his excesses on his sleeve; he was addicted to cocaine and heroin while also an alcoholic with terrible self-esteem issues. Not a fun combination, I'm willing to bet. Those excesses killed him.
Eons ago, when I was performing comedy regularly, one of the theater's respected older performers told me that I reminded him of Farley. Wary of Farley's personal history and the way that he died, I immediately shied away from that. I was taken back further when he clarified with two things: that I reminded him "in the good way" (which I took to mean my physicality onstage) and that he was quite familiar with Farley. It turned out that he'd eulogized him at one of the memorial services. To this day, it's one of the greatest compliments that I've ever been given.
I miss Chris Farley. There was a savage edge to his work, but an essential sweetness to everything that he did which made things all the more wonderful. The world needs more performers with those qualities.
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." - H.D. Thoreau
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