I Survived

The downside of writing these pieces, especially as informed by archival video, is the ever-building truth that all is not permanent. This one was shot at the fabled Heartland Cafe in Rogers Park, Chicago. It was 2003. Heartland’s heyday was the post-hippie era of the 70s. From Wikipedia:

“The Heartland Cafe was a restaurant in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago. Originally opened in 1976 by two activists as the "Sweet Home Chicago Heartland Café," it became a cultural icon for the diverse neighborhood,^[1] known as much for its hippie ambience and left-leaning politics as for its largely (but not exclusively) vegetarian food.”

The Heartland is no longer with us. Neither is Robert Lee, the terrific flute player and old friend from high school, circa 1971-72. Poignantly, the song is entitled I Survived.

I feel heavy writing these words today. I wish I could talk to Robert (“Bobby”) right now. Bob was what we called in those days, a “scholarship student.” My high school was historically non-diverse. Many considered it a “rich kids’ school.” So when new, more liberal leadership took over in the late 60s, the school started offering full scholarships to gifted kids with diverse backgrounds. You know, black kids.

Bob had to be pretty brave to come to Latin School. But he had the personality and the innate talent to thrive. We hit it off right away. Put another way, he thought I was funny. And if he thought I was funny, that made him a great guy, a great friend. (Slight internal cringe over here.)

Bob was really open to all experiences. Let me tell you a story.

I had an idea. I regularly organized comedic bits to be performed for the student body at our weekly Monday morning school assemblies. I guess the Headmaster thought these bits would add some levity to the proceedings, or at least relieve the tedium of hearing the upcoming activities for the week.

So the idea was this: a stand up comedian delivering a routine - with no jokes. Or, maybe more to the point, with jokes that had no punchlines. Maybe I’d seen somebody on TV do this. I’m not sure. But the thing was, the bit was going to be funny. Without traditional joke structures. This was going to require a very confident performer who understood the absurdity of the assignment, and who’d be game for it. Robert Lee was that guy. I just had a feeling.

I approached Bob and laid it out for him. He was cracking up already. I told him I’d write the non-jokes for him. And then I coached him on how I thought he should deliver them. As I saw it, his point of view needed to be quietly confident. His truth had to be, I’m a comedian and this is terrific material, A-1 stuff. Whereby he’d set up the non-joke in a very neutral, matter-of-fact way, then deliver the non-punchline, again, confidently, yet neutrally (think Steven Wright) and then pause after delivering the non-punchline, as if he were waiting for the laughter to swell, then die down. All the while, just smiling. No gesturing. No added facial expression. He doesn’t know he’s bombing.

Bob got it. And he was eager to give it a try. I cautioned him that it was likely he’d bomb. But that didn’t scare him. Note: I didn’t want to try it out myself. I think I was too chicken.

Anyway, the day came and Bob went out there and — he killed!

You know, folks, I’ve been thinking. I take the North Avenue bus every day. I see a lot of interesting characters on that bus. Why, just this morning, I saw a guy ask the driver for a transfer. [Pause.] The driver gave him one. [Longer pause. Then a smile.]

The crowd just broke up. Bob told another anti-joke and the crowd started getting the joke — that there was no joke. And the laughs got bigger. Bob looked like he was having a great time. Somehow he had the ability to communicate funniness almost entirely with silence and subtlety. I was deeply impressed.

Bob died this year and I missed his memorial service. I’m glad I got to tell this story here, at the very least. And, hey. We haven’t even talked about his top notch musicianship as a flute player. Give this video a listen and see what I mean.