Comedian Chris Farley, who died in 1997 on a vodka / hooker / cocaine bender, has been back in the news now that someone has decided to do a documentary about his short life.
Not to eulogize him, but he was surprisingly agile and athletic for a man his size. He was funny too, in small doses. Like a lot of comics, even when he was at his funniest there was always a hint of sadness. Sometimes it seemed like self-loathing. Depression and the ability to make others laugh seem to go hand in hand.
I did not exactly miss him when he died, actors overdose all the time. But a few months afterwards a friend of mine from Southern California mentioned that he knew Farley’s parish priest. According to the priest Farley liked to help out at the soup kitchen and was a regular at Mass.
I’ve known my share of self-destructive people and maybe done more than my share of judging them, but there is a reason why we are not supposed to do that. You never know what is going on in another person’s heart.