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This is a post from Julia Livingstone, Glen's wife ... Reminisence of Robert O. Smith ...
I remember the day I first met Robert O. like it was yesterday ... although it was nearly 30 years ago.
Although I wasn't a 'radio person', and, going to school up in Vancouver, hadn't heard Bob on the radio ... I had heard about him, from my new boyfriend Glen, who had known him since the late 1960s ... Glen called him Bob. I didn't know anyone was allowed to do that , but Glen called him Bob, so I did, too.
Some of the stories about Bob were hilarious ... and then ... I heard Roberto, as I instantly nicknamed him, in the flesh ! ... well, heard him on the phone ... in a 'performance for one' in a few phone calls ... He had 'the voice' ... and was brilliantly witty ...
But my new boyfriend, and all his friends, were a bit older than me ... not so's you'd notice at this age, but in one's early 20s that seemed like quite a gulf ... and Robert O. was the elder statesmen of them ... so ... I felt a bit shy ... me ! ... to meet him ...
Down we went to Seattle, where we were staying for a few days' vacation ... as new boyfriends and girlfriends do ... I had known Glen since 1978, and spent a lot of time with him, but just as a friend of a friend, so now that we were officially going out with each other, I was having the pleasure of getting to know his friends ... and Bob loomed large ... as he did in everything, throughout his life ...
What would this star be like ? ...
Well ... he was absolutely delightful ... We spent days together ... him and one of his girl friends, and me and Glen ... driving around in his classic car, the antique Jaguar with the right-hand drive ... going to the park, wandering through the trees ... early morning bagels and late evening demi-tasse coffees ... going for a walk ... for ice cream ... out for a drive ... down to the waterfront ... out for dinner later ... back to his place for wine and music and more wine and more music ... always music ... and laughter, always laughter ...
And, in one of those trips to the park ... before the wine ... he said those immortal words to me " Baby, you can drive my car " ... Glen was shocked ! ... The classic Jag ! ... He'd never let anyone drive that ... and I'd never driven right-hand drive ... but off we went ... up through the winding wooded hillside park ... me at the wheel, Robert O. riding shotgun, making jokes and making me so at ease so I wouldn't notice that he wasn't, LoL ... I'd never driven right-hand drive before driving his car, and would never care to again, but he made it seem so easy ...
Later, after I'd been around him a few times, I said something which I thought was funny ... and was totally disconcerted when he laughed aloud, then stopped in his tracks and started at me quite seriously ... Oh, no ... had I offended him ? ... Did he think I was stupid ? ... Nope ... "I'm a student of comedy " he said to me very seriously, "and you're very funny" ... What a compliment ! ... He loved my Emily Litella (sp) ... and I loved to make him laugh.
We saw him again in Seattle a few times, every time we went to town for the weekend, and then ... joy of all joys ... he was coming to Canada ! ... We were in Vancouver, and so was Robert O ! ... and coming to work at the same radio station where Glen worked !
What fun ... He arrived in town with his young wife, and he and she, and their beautiful baby boy spent many an evening at our place ... and we at theirs ... Glen had the pleasure of working with him during the day ... and we all went out night after night ... Dining ... drinking ... dancing ... to movies ... to their place for dinner ... to our place to hear the latest records ... it was the early 80s, they were still making records ... back to theirs to hear some classic rock ... out to clubs to hear bands ... down to the art gallery ... and up to the top of Grouse Mountain ... to Stanley Park for walks on the sea wall ... and many many times to a cozy little Japanese restaurant in our neighborhood ...
We lived about an hour away from each other, and they'd come out to our place, and we'd all go to this place, kick off our shoes and settle down at one of those little tables in one of those little rooms with the sliding rice-paper doors, and for the next three hours gales of laughter would emanate from that room ... with Robert O. rocking the house with his laugh ... Many a time I held the baby so his Mom could pick up her chopsticks and eat, and that little one never slept, he just looked at all the paper lanterns swaying overhead, and smiled at the pretty girls in their fancy kimonos, and could not take his eyes off his Dad ... was just fascinated listening to him talk ...
Later, after life events beyond his control and a painful separation from his son, not of his making, Bob was in another place ... quite literally ... having moved in with a girlfriend whom we knew ... and many an evening was spent with them ... I can still see that big comfortable living room with all Bob's records and his stereo playing, and the trees swaying outside the window.
Glen and I got married, and Robert O. was furious to have to work the day of our reception. But he made up for it, by taking us out the day after our honeymoon. And he was there to celebrate our first anniversary with us, he booked the night of that party off a long time in advance.
When troubles sometimes came to Robert O's life, he'd sometimes turn up at our house, sometimes late, one night, I remember, very late, in the middle of winter, in a driving storm, he was just there on the doorstep, he had to get out of the house for awhile ... He sometimes called us " Mom and Dad " ... and we were honored to be his friends, his refuge, his temporary distraction ... whatever he needed ... He felt bad one time, and said he felt like he'd been 'needy', and we laughed, and told him he was no needier than anyone else ... he just had the gift of giving you the real him, and not hiding anything when things were bothering him, and that it was our privilige to be a shelter from the storm, anytime ... And we meant that ... I wish he'd turn up on our doorstep one more time ... I wish I could have one of those big comfortable bear hugs once again, and listen to Glen laugh him out of his pain.
Other times were just joyous ...simple stuff ... kid stuff even ... I remember a houseful of people at our place, and Robert O. and my dad carving Halloween pumpkins ... Bob was complimentary of my design that I had come up with myself and used year after year, and watched my dad carving it, and was making cracks the whole time, making us all laugh ... The next year, he was inspired to enter a contest for local celeb carvers,
and came up with his own design, incoporating one of his comic legend inspirations, and showing his artistic talent and his wit all at the same time ... When you saw his Jack-o-Lantern, on display in the lobby of the big hotel downtown, it just jumped out from the crowd ... This was in the day before there was any such thing as patterns or carving kits or any of that wussy stuff ... You had to just take the courage of your
convictions, sketch out a face on the pumpkin with a borrowed eyebrow pencil, and then have at it with a butcher knife in them days, kids ...
And Bob sure did have at it ... with his usual perfectionistic joy and gusto ... When we first walked up to it, the face was unmistakable ! ... and just in case you didn't get the point, there was a big cigar hanging out the side of the mouth, and a great old brown felt slouch hat on top ... ( Where did he get that hat in those days before the Value Village ! ... We found out later he'd scoured every thrift and second-hand store in town) ... but right at that first sight, the surprise was such a delight, we couldn't believe our eyes ... Was it ... could it be ... Yes ! ... It was ! ... It was W.C. Pumpkin Fields ! ... Perfect ! ... and perfectly Robert O. ... Oh, did we laugh ... I can still see that today, I think it made the local papers, but maybe I'm just imagining that part in my mind's eye.
Over the years, we loved Robert O. through different radio stations, and a platoon of girlfriends ... and, although he could surprise and delight you with a new piece of artwork, or a new performance, or a new powerlifting record, personally, he was always the same, always ... He had a continuity about him, and about his life, that transcended the mundane, and made him larger than life, but very real, at the same time.
We met his lovely daughter again, later, when she was an all grown up young lady ... and went out with the two of them to dinner and to see a band one time when she was in Vancouver ... I remember that as one of the quietest evenings we'd ever spent with Bob ... he was in Dad mode ... and was a perfect gentleman, and very sweet to see him with her.
He really got into the powerlifting in a serious way, and moved more into that area of his life over the years ... It had been his first love, and it would be his last ... It was always a pleasure to talk to him on the phone, and hear about his latest powerlifting coup ... he was so enthusiastic about it ... Can you imagine anyone describing a powerlifting meet so that someone who didn't know the first thing about it would feel
like they were there? ... Bob did that ! ... and was so good at it, you could listen to him for hours ...
And you could hear him at all hours ... on the radio, on the television, on one of the shows he did voicework for ... check the IMDB site, the list is there ... but it doesn't even tell a fraction ... the whole story of his talents may never be told.
For many years, Glen put together Bob's demo tapes that he'd have to update from time to time ... Robert O. Smith's voice work was so excellent, that it was difficult to determine sometimes that it was him ... Not just his 'voices' ... Humphrey Bogart and Wolfman Jack and the like, which were truly superb ... but his 'regular reads' were so versatile, that you could hear three of his spots back to back and never know it was the same guy.
In fact, there were a couple of times he brought a bunch of clips of things, and Glen found there were not only some missing, but that there was sometimes one in there that wasn't even him ! ... Robert O. used to bring assorted clips to Glen, and ask him " Is this me ? " ... He'd laugh and say " Glen is the only person in the world who can spot my voice in the crowd " ... I wish we had more of those demo tapes today. Just listening to him tell about the specials at Speedy Lube, or London Drugs, was a treat ... If you ever mentioned London Drugs to him, he'd immediately launch into his
Tampax commercial ... which didn't ever happen in real life ... but which he used for his very polite and cheerful comic 'demo' ... only he'd make it more and more outlandish ... and more hilarious ... as the years went on ... and do it all in his straight read or in his Gary Owens voice which made it all the funnier ...
Well, trying to describe ... in writing ... what anyone sounds like, is difficult, at best ... but to describe a comic genius with a fabulous voice like Bob was ... well, that is impossible. And, as you can see, I can't write near as well as my better half, so I won't even try.
What I will say is that, near the end, when Robert O. knew it was the end, we had some serious conversation, and some tears, and some love that had always been there expressed in no uncertain terms. That was his gift, to be 'out there' and to be Bob.
That love was later expressed by both of us to both of his children when they were in Vancouver, both on the phone, by emails, and in person, with Glen helping them out with a few things ... such little bit of help as you can give when some so young have lost someone so wonderful ...
Robert O's daughter was a constant in his life for so many years, through different cities, countries, radio stations, and relationships, she was a light shining from afar, and he loved her dearly and was, in later years, so proud of his grandaughter, who he used to brag was 'so smart'. His daughter is smart, too, and funny, and a wonderful writer in her own right. Bob was so proud of both his kids.
His son was spoken about so often, and he always knew to the day his age, and what grade he was in, unlike some Dads who trust to wives to keep track of that sort of thing, Bob had it down pat ... although he sometimes didn't like to admit he was paying that close attention ... didn't like to admit it because he didn't like to talk about the pain of being physically apart from him when he was so young. But sometimes he did talk about it, and hope his son would one day understand and wonder whether he was angry with him, and there wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think about both his kids, with love, and sometimes with longing, for both of them.
It was all there, too, in his things ... the small everyday things we all have to go through when someone we love passes ... Bob had those, too, in amongst his 'star' memorabilia, and trophies, and huge paintings ... he had the little things which were so important to him ... things his children had sent him when they were little, some things other people could have considered a 'throwaway' ... but he kept everything. He kept
every card we ever sent him, too, and those that many people sent. But he absolutely treasured things from his kids.
His son looks just like him ... and sounds so much like him, it is at the same time comforting, and sort of amazing to speak with him ... Robert O. had always thought his son should do radio or voice work, and had tried to encourage him to do that. Maybe he will. He certainly could. And wouldn't it be great fun to hear the voice of Robert O. on the air again !
Robert O. will always live on, not only in his great kids, but to all of us who ever knew him and his larger than life personality and many talents, in comedy, in artwork and cartooning and painting, and in life in general.
He lived, and died, with courage, and gusto, and was blunt and matter-of-fact about the end, just as he'd been in life, albeit mighty frustrated that his lifelong incredibly strong body was letting him down... Still, he said to me, a couple of months before he passed, stone-cold sober and without meds of any kind: " I'm ready to go. There's nothing I want to do that I haven't done. "
Not many of us can say that.
God Bless you and keep you, dearest Robert O. Smith ... you may have been ready to go, but we weren't quite ready to let you go, and we can't quite believe you are gone ... You were, and are, a treasure ... and may the angels enfold you in their wings to comfort you, rock you to sleep without pain, and laugh at your stories and sing along to your songs, until we all meet again.
Good Night, sweet prince.
Love ~
Julia Livingstone
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I will just put a postcript on here, that I think the title of this thread is more than a bit unfortunate ... Sure, he liked to play around with his name, but the man had a name, and "Rubber D'Oh" was not it. That's fine to use in the body of a post, but not for the title ... It is no wonder there aren't more replies on this thread, I wonder how many people can find it !
If you are looking for more friend and fan memories of Robert O. Smith, you can find them on his own personal blogs ... both his Bench Bozo blog, and his Thorndike Pickledish blog ... where his own artwork and writings survive, and where his kids have posted messages, and where memories of him are posted from people all over.
These can be found at :
http://thorndikepickledish.blogspot.com/
and
http://www.benchbozo.blogspot.com/
Cheers ~ Julia
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