Robin Williams

          I was saddened to hear of Robin William's death. Late-night television will never be the same. People are compelled to tell stories about him in his memory and many of the stories are far more important than mine. But it's my Robin Williams story, and the time to tell it is now.
          I was at a men's clothing shop on Melrose avenue in the mid-eighties. I was trying on a sports jacket. That's what we did back then. I was aware of a man standing next to me. He came into the store after me and was trying on jackets as well. I paid him no mind. But at some point I looked over and realized it was Robin Williams. We both had jackets on and simultaneously turned toward each other. He asked, "how does this look?" The jacket he was wearing was a pond-scum green color. "I'm not sure it's your color," I said.
          "That jacket looks great on you, but it's a little wide around the shoulders," he said to me.
          I looked at myself in the mirror. He was right. We both took off our jackets and hung them back on the rack. Neither of us were interested in buying one. We stared at the jackets on the rack one last time before stepping away as if to leave. I nodded my head to Robin and said, "have a good day," he nodded his head to me and said, "you too."