Robyn and I talk almost every morning. It’s a kind of well-being check-in for us, I think. I would get concerned if I couldn’t reach her (without an excused absence). She feels the same.
In any case, during our morning chit chat yesterday, she asked me if I planned to raise a glass to honor the recently departed comedian George Wendt. I responded, “Huh?”
Naturally, I recognized the name. Although I was never a regular viewer of the sitcom “Cheers,” either during its original run or even in reruns, I’d occasionally catch an isolated episode. I also knew Mr. Wendt from his Saturday Night Live appearances. Based on Mr. Wendt’s public persona, he seemed to be a pleasant, easy-going fellow.
Indeed, the most surprising fact I have read about him post-mortem is that he was seventy-six years old when he died! I would have guessed he was younger.
***
Robyn’s question this morning made me chuckle because it reminded me of our running joke that we have nothing in common. For example, she loves sitcoms, especially Friends,” but others, too, including “Cheers.” Of course, “Seinfeld” is still funny, likewise “Larry David,” but these revered sitcoms were never appointment television for me.
You’re more apt to catch me watching an episode of “Nature,” “Nova,” or “Frontline.” I can’t abide television commercials, game shows, or Shark Tank.
I prefer old movies, like those shown on Turner Classics, and, admittedly, I will watch my favorites repeatedly, even the ones that are not particularly good or don’t hold up well. However, mention the words “old movie,” and I can nearly hear Robyn somewhere gagging. If Robyn and I happen to be watching a movie together at home, then the odds are good that she’ll be softly snoozing before it’s even half done.
***
Robyn is a suburban girl. I’m a city guy.
She likes fine hotels in Paris’ City Center. I prefer an ABNB rental located in the eighteenth arrondissement, near the funicular at the foot of Montmartre.
Robyn gets bored if she’s not active. Meanwhile, I easily nap like a lazy dog and enjoy downtime almost as much as Lola the pup.
You get the idea.
***
We met virtually during the pandemic, and we’ve formed quite a pair ever since. Soon, it will be five years. And, despite any differences, today I couldn’t imagine my life without Robyn.
If you asked me why, I’d tell you that in part it is because she loves me, because she is a supportive and loyal friend who unfailingly has my back, because she is smart, because she makes me laugh (sometimes unintentionally), because she’s sweet and lovely and classy, a good looking lady, who always smells good, to boot! I could identify numerous additional factors in her favor, but you get the general idea.
***
Robyn isn’t the only one who fondly recalls George Wendt. The newspapers contain his obituary, television broadcasts show his image, and radio personalities re-tell their favorite memories of Mr. Wendt. Between me and Robyn, it appears that I am the outlier.
So last night, before I tuned in to watch Nature, Nova, and Frontline, I raised a glass to honor George Wendt, who, in his time, had brought my girl a bit of joy and a few laughs.
