In the quiet, lapping wake of the notable non-success of RV, Robin Williams has “found himself drinking again,” after 20 years of sobriety, but is taking “proactive measures to deal with this for his own well-being and the well-being of his family,” his publicist said today.
I’m going to go easy on this, because, following Mel Gibson’s Jewgate, simply “finding oneself drinking again” seems like something minor overlooked, as in “I found myself substituting basil alone again, when the recipe clearly called for a full Italian spice mix.” This is much more respectable behavior than “I found myself zig-zagging down PCH at two in the morning, verbally annihilating the
race group of people responsible for my employment, and calling someone ‘sugar tits’ in earnest.”
Plus, Death to Smoochie was really, really funny.
I admire his choice to admit to his relapse, I congratulate him on successfully working a program for 20 solid years — as opposed to a certain raging Jew-hater who apparently spent most of 2001 hopping back and forth between bars and AA meetings — and I wish him the best of luck in his courageous journey back to health.