Parachute Pop-Psyche: My Meager Bob Saget Memory

Bob Saget told me that when he came to Las Vegas, he liked getting with “girls” and doing charity gigs (and by “girls” he colloquially meant women).

But he also joked about the effect haters had on him:

“My mother used to say, ‘Oh, Bobby, you are your worst critic.’ And then I’d say, ‘No I’m not … read this stuff!’”

And so, now I’m going to do something entertainment writers don’t often express clearly, which is:

I didn’t personally know much else about this famous person I interviewed years ago who as of today is gone from this Earth as we know it.

I interviewed Bob Saget a couple of times and I can pop-psyche him emotionally as someone I thought was nice, and genuine, and painfully self-aware of existentialism in this universe, and he seemed to me like he was trying hard for me to like him, and I got the sense he wanted people to like him and respect him, as opposed to adoring him or hating him.

What I mean is:

There are people in this world who want to be liked. There are other people in this world who want to be beloved. And then there are manipulative soul destroyers who don’t put shopping carts back in the cart corral.

During our few little 30-minute conversations, Bob Saget came across to me like he anxiously wanted to be liked and respected without compromising the kind of person he was.

But you know what? I didn’t know the guy. I only talked to him a couple of times in my life and in his life.

But I know a lot of people wanna know more about someone like Bob Saget so this is my only tender loving insight.

I enjoyed talking to him.

I got a good vibe off of him. I mean, he was a comedian and they’re a unique brand of insecure.

I didn’t know if he had any weird skeletons or not. He didn’t seem to but I never know in this damn world.

But I definitely was happy that he was warm to me like a normal person, and I felt sad about how nervous or trepidatious he seemed with me even though I was being totally cool with him.

And I don’t know what that was about.

I don’t know if he was just nervous those days, or if I was being overly commanding, or if I am wrong and I was just reading into his senses or projecting my own anxiety onto him. (Interviewing is a seesaw simulacrum.)

So that was my feel for Bob Saget.

It seemed as if he knew he had an emotional need to feel more goodness and purpose and fellowship from the world around him.

I liked being nice to him.

And now he’s gone so young.

Mortality is a motherhumper. 

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