Steve Martin. It suffered under the weight of his absence....well, that and his lack of knowledge of the relationship.
Wait, let me start again. It's true one-sided-ness can strain a relationship.
Shortly after I discovered KISS, I discovered Steve Martin. While other third-graders were going to bed at 8pm, I was encouraged by my father to stay up late, i.e., "you've got to see this guy do stand-up. He's hilarious!" Rabbit ears, an arrow through the head, happy feet, the non-conformist's oath...what wasn't there to love? That year I went to school for career day as Steve Martin. (In hindsight, I am fairly certain we were supposed to dress as an occupation, not particular individual, but the instructions were vague). As I read my one-page essay covering the pros and cons of following in his footsteps professionally, did teachers toy with the idea of a home visit? Did they worry what kind of parents encourage their eight-year-olds to stay up for Saturday Night Live?
Nowadays, every 30 or 40-something claims they always loved Steve Martin, but I ask, did you have pin ups of him in your dorm room? Did you write him fan letters addressed to simply "Hollywod?" Could you perform King Tut choreography in a pinch even now, 30 years after it aired? Well, perhaps you could. But did you read his plays, appreciate his books, worry about him when he went through a gloomy phase in the 90s? Ah, Steve, they hardly knew ye. But I knew ye.
Let it be clear, I didn't have a crush on Mr. Martin. I didn't want to marry him or date him. I just wanted him to move in down the street for the summer, so we could go to swim team together or something.
Today, I wish him well. The banjo career's nice. I always knew he had it in him. By the way, two years after that first career day, I went to school as a lawyer. Snooze, snooze. However, I did receive a banjo for Christmas in Steve's honor.