Richard Pryor, Comedian, RIP

I went to school with this weird, funny kid named P.J. P.J. never opened his eyes more than half way, and he never dressed out for gym class. I loved being around him with a group, because he always had something odd to say, usually so odd I'd try and remember to tell an absent friend about it later. "Dude, P.J. is so weird. Listen to what he said in the library today..." I was a little afraid to talk with him one-on-0ne.

P.J. was present when one of his friends was accidentally killed, and he disolved into a life of drugs and mental illness, the latter of which was no doubt just intense sadness. He was "sent away" for a while, and when he returned, he was weirder and funnier, though anything funny he said at that point was chalked up as just plain weird. After his stint in rehab/juvie, whenever P.J.'s name was called during roll, he would say "here" followed by a mumbled "Jo-Jo Dancer".

Sometimes he'd slip it into conversation. "P.J., how's your lunch?"

"The burger's okay. Jo-Jo Dancer. But my fries are kinda soggy. Jo-Jo Dancer."

It never made sense until I was older. Jo-Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling is probably a movie P.J. watched when he was away from school. He probably heard stories about Richard Pryor and the dangers of drugs. "Jo-Jo Dancer" was a bit of a mantra, maybe, and maybe P.J. used it as a calming tool, or as a reminder that bullshit like kids snickering at you during attendance is nothing compared to, say, catching your head on fire while free-basing, or watching one of your friends die. I think P.J. may have been on to something.

Richard Pryor died yesterday. Damn. I used to strut back and forth in the living room for my dad any time Silver Streak was on latenight television (all censored and chopped up for commercials). This week, promise me you'll tell an embarrassing, so painful-to-tell-that-it's-hilarious story, at least once. Oh, and try and put some swearing in there somewhere. Cause there's nothing cooler than someone who can laugh at himself, especially through pain, and if you swear, you might be a badass as well.

But not as badass as Richard Pryor. I mean, come on.

Richard Pryor and Mitch Hedberg died in the same year. Bob Newhart better live to be a hundred.