No, this post isn't about Robin Williams, but it is about a man of similar stature. This post is about my friend Isaiah, who has been described as "prickly" by some, or they try and read that from me in my futile attempts to sum him up, but I can assure you that "prickly" really isn't a suitable word for him or Robin Williams, presumably. When people are described as "prickly" it is usually because they exude some kind of defensive energy from a deeply insecure self, but this isn't him. He is loud, yes, and he is the farthest thing from submissive- sure, there is ego there and a genuinely intimidating voice, but I make an effort to stress that this isn't all it is. More than anything, what is most intimidating about Isaiah is that the end result he is looking for is not winning but an exchange. He does not only want to stand out and be the best, but he also openly throws out loud and brash invitations to engage with him in this pursuit. Even if he "wins", you'll get more respect for him than he has for his victory if you just hop along for the ride. Conversation is not an activity to pass the time for Isaiah. Each conversation absolutely has an objective whether it is to debrief, to learn more, or to debate. Either way, it demands engagement.
This is what brings me to Robin Williams. The quote I have pictured above is one I have always enjoyed even before I met Isaiah, though now I can't think of it without applying it to him. The world is open for play, and whether Isaiah knows what he is selling or not (much like the ill-fated Mcdonald brothers), what he is pitching is an invitation to play. Isaiah is like a puppy that invites others to play but all his audience can see is that he firmly believes he is top dog and thus believes his play to be a trap. Isaiah has taught me so much about helpful action and communication, but the most unique and overlooked skill I learned from Isaiah that I really feel more people could benefit from is the ability to play even in environments that deny it.
One evening Isaiah and I found ourselves in a desert devoid of anything redeemable. It was a barren wasteland of an evening. We went out on a limb and found ourselves stranded amongst awful company and terrible entertainment and then I'll never remember who started it first, but we began throwing sand. Tossing it up at each other in a way that may have seemed cumbersome to others but they did not understand the door that it opened. In this desert world we began to play and suddenly it became an oasis. The world isn't just open to play- but also imagination and elaboration. When we play D&D this is more obvious, but these opportunities exist in our real world too. He may never peg himself as someone who invites the joy of play in to shared environments, but he absolutely does do this and I think too many people just reject this idea that you can create your own fun and that you don't need to be a preschool teacher to do this.
We still exist in the real world and support each other and navigate through equally mundane and divine environments, but the real gift of our friendship is the shape it takes when we invite each other in to a discourse that may appear to others like we are merely one-upping each other, but is more like we are boosting each other higher and higher like some impossible Mario Party game nobody else bothers to practice but we've got the timing just right and the rest of this silly game of collecting stars and bullshit is just an elaborate set up for us to throw new curve balls at each other.
My affection for Isaiah is boundless and while my relationship with others grew so naturally and organically in to my life, this was a whole other case with Isaiah. I didn't spend my formative years with him and then grow to accept him as family, but instead he just blipped in like a hilarious glitch and then was here forever. One minute he was a fun guest and the next minute I suddenly cared that he was treated fairly and his happiness and well being were important to me on a daily basis and that was well over a year ago now. I don't understand. I cant project this the way I could give you a line graph of the influence of other's in my life. Everyone else seemed to grow on me in a rapid but logistical manor where there was middle space between a person in my house and a close friend. There was no middle space with Isaiah. I don't get it. He was like a stray dog that I only half fed and passively looked for a home for and then suddenly learned that he plays the best game of catch ever and then we adopted him and now if he dies I'll write a best selling novel about it and let Owen Wilson shit all over it.
What makes us compatible has nothing to do with interests or anything in common at first. We complement each other in ways not totally understood even by myself unless I am drunk spilling out every thought that's ever crossed my mind. He taught me so much about perspectives and helped me better understand myself, too . The way I saw it, my strengths basically consisted of things everyone has the capacity for but don't necessarily focus on. I framed a lot of things based on my weaknesses and what skills I lacked and then finding ways to approach them differently as to hide my gaping weaknesses. Isaiah never told me otherwise, but showed me that "differently" is a strength. I work with people with disabilities, and I firmly believe I would be less good at it if I hadn't come to this understanding of myself first. He would laugh at the prospect of himself being an empowering force to any outside of the bedroom, but there's the facts. I never considered myself creative, but through D&D and our make-believe discourse games I learned that I am not independently creative, but that social creativity is a realm in it's own right.
The world is open for play. I can count on Isaiah for almost anything, but most of all I can count on him to either open doors for play or accept my invitations even when they are lost on others. Isaiah is genuine to the core, also. A lot of people in this world want to take situations as they appear; a desert with awful people, a shit TV show, sinking profits. Most people will grit their teeth through these situations or cut costs by supplementing real milk for a powdered supplement. But this isn't who Isaiah is. Isaiah will throw sand in these situations, he will give you a leg-up in to an ongoing joke and discourse, and god dammit he will build an honorable business model with you with real milk son, now and forever!
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