I was at one of my regular nerd hangouts when somebody mentioned that Adam West was dead. My first thought was “That’s got to be bullshit”, promptly followed by “Wait… it probably isn’t”, rounded off with “Now I’ll never get to send him that birthday card”.
See, I had it in my head that I’d send Adam West a birthday card, telling him how grateful I was that he was part of my childhood (one of my clearest memories is of getting home from school just in time to catch the beginning of another episode of Batman) and how I hoped to make his work part of the childhood for the next generation of Prestons.
I even bought the card last year… damned if I know where it is, because of course I forgot. The man made such a difference to so many lives, revived a character that DC had almost killed with stupid nonsense by imbuing him with silly nonsense, and endured so much petty sniping from people trying to be “cool” by pretending they never liked the show (let’s be honest, we all went through that phase).
And I never told him.
I forgot to tell him how much I loved him.
I never met him, but I loved him so damn much.
We all did.
He knew he was doing something silly, and he never stopped doing it, because it was so much fun. I can only hope I can go through life with as much self-deprecation and good humour as he did.
Goodbye, Mr West. You had one hell of a good run, but I’ll still miss you.
We all will.