We've All Got Big Buts

 Yes, sometimes I bring you folks 'round here to talk about someone who died. We kick around their career and their bio a bit, and then we bid them farewell. 

Paul Reubens died this week. He was seventy years young. I say this in particular because Mister Reubens is the comic genius who gave us Pee Wee Herman. He will continue to be a treasure in the hearts of my wife and I, as well as millions of other dedicated fans. So, let's get this out of the way right at the top: Paul Reubens was arrested in 1991 for indecent exposure. In Florida. At the time, it signaled an end to the megawatt superstar surge that he had been enjoying since 1981, when The Pee Wee Herman Show appeared on HBO. 

It was a kid's show for grownups. It was a treat for anyone's inner child. Which is why that arrest ten years later was so troubling. How could this icon of youth be mixed up with something so naughty? 

That would be the grownup part. Pee Herman, as much as he seemed to be a fully realized human at times, he was a character. A bit of imagination. What if you got to act like you were eight years old when you were thirty? What would your house look like? What would you spend your money on? 

And if you're tempted at this moment to answer, "Going to a porn theater in Florida," then maybe you understand the trouble with Pee Wee. He was a man-child, with a mild emphasis on the man part. What made him so endlessly amusing to me and that room full of people over there who never grew tired of his antics was just that: Pee Wee was constantly on the edge of getting into trouble. Most of the time, whatever authority might have existed was ignored of confounded by his presence. 

Pee Wee's Playhouse was a place where adults acted like children who were acting like grownups. Captain Carl. Miss Yvonne. Cowboy Curtis. Pee Wee Herman. It was a special time and it provided my wife and I a brief respite each Saturday morning back in the days before we were grownups ourselves. We ate Pop Tarts and watched the show, making sure to remember the secret word so that the rest of the day anytime we heard it we would scream really loud. 

Okay. I know that it doesn't sound like magic if you weren't there. But I was. I was in the third row when he brought his touring show to the University of Colorado. I narrowly missed out on being named Tootsie Roll monitor for the whole crowd. That was the night that Paul Reubens, in the role that became his lifetime, gave me my secret club name: Dave-O. It's on my Pee Wee Herman Fan Club card. 

When Pee Wee made his big screen debut, I was invited to a preview screening. I went with my older brother and when it was over, we walked out of the theater with a new appreciation for all things Pee Wee. His daughter grew up with the manic sounds of his breakfast machine in her daily soundtrack. On the day Paul Reubens died, she sent a clip from the movie to me and my brothers. 

We will miss Pee Wee, and we forgive Paul Reubens for not being the character he created. He stomped on the Terra in big shoes. He will be missed. 

A lot.