Mr. Right
R.I.P. I actually have a William Buckley story.
He was godfather to someone at my high school, so he showed up to give our commencement address. Little did we know we were in for an Andy Kaufman routine. Nobody could understand his accent--which sounded like Thurston Howell moments after a stroke--and the few things we could pick up were incomprehensible. (I still refuse to believe, after all these years, that he actually opened his spiel with a joke that hinged on the word "Shithead.") I have no clue how long he spoke but when he was done he got a standing ovation out of sheer relief. We all felt like the guy in the wheelchair who finishes the marathon a week after it's over.
He was godfather to someone at my high school, so he showed up to give our commencement address. Little did we know we were in for an Andy Kaufman routine. Nobody could understand his accent--which sounded like Thurston Howell moments after a stroke--and the few things we could pick up were incomprehensible. (I still refuse to believe, after all these years, that he actually opened his spiel with a joke that hinged on the word "Shithead.") I have no clue how long he spoke but when he was done he got a standing ovation out of sheer relief. We all felt like the guy in the wheelchair who finishes the marathon a week after it's over.
posted by Rob Toth at 1:12:00 AM
1 Comments:
I distinctly remember nodding off during that speech. It was an extremely hot early summer afternoon in a stuffy church with a bad sound system. Buckley's accent and the conditions made sleep the only rational choice, which, in hindsight, was quite a shame.
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