Every time I think about it, I start to get upset. Found myself tearing up. I don't think I've had a reaction to a celebrity death since I was 15 and Cobain died - and granted, I was on some serious morphine at that time due to a childhood sickness.
The man is a fucking legend and I say "is" because he's just not dead to me yet. I saw Mork as a kid, I watched Popeye a few years later, every year he was there with that huge grin on his face with Cadillac Man or Fisher King or Jack even - look at every movie cover, he's having the best fucking time even when you're not in those cases of bad one slipping by.
I haven't seen half of his films, but I can say I saw at least half of his library. He was one of the funniest men on the planet, and though you know how haunted he was you can see in his performances that he's trying to bring joy to human beings - maybe that's how he was able to cope. His grief and acceptance at the end of What Dreams, his speech about his wife in Good Will, his confrontation with his Viet Cong friend in Good Morning.
It's hard to believe that at such a young age, he's gone. He's been mostly doing voice or indie stuff for the last few years, off our radars, but the man had 20 more years, 20 years of chances and you KNOW some great things would have come of it.
So yeah, this hits. This is a major part of my childhood that's literally gone and by the worst fucking disease on the planet.
I'll remember him by several of his roles, but recently it's going to be this that I think lots of us will think of him. He was not just a legend, but he was one of us.