Late yesterday afternoon, I saw that Howard Hesseman passed away. I didn’t know him, but I worked with him once, and he was wonderful. It was in the 90s, when Anne and I were still dating, in a tiny movie a classmate of mine wrote, produced, directed, and starred in. We filmed it up in San Francisco. Howard and I played rival drag queens. Oh, how I wish I could find a photo of us. It was magnificent.
It was so long ago, I can’t recall much about the movie, but I loved the story and I loved getting to do full-on drag (in a Peg Bundy wig, 10 inch platform thigh-high boots, showing way too much flabby belly God it was glorious) and I loved the unvarnished grind of making an indie movie in the 90s. I’m pretty sure Howard and I were in the same scene at least once, but I can’t recall if our characters interacted at all. I don’t think they did.
I also remember that one day on the set, we were sitting in cast chairs, talking, and the subject of jazz came up. I confessed that my familiarity with jazz musicians was ten feet wide and half an inch deep, but
I enjoyed Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, John Coltrane, Chet Baker. He asked me if I had ever listened to Charles Mingus. I told him that I hadn’t hear OF him, much less heard him play music, so Howard walked to his car, which he’d driven up from Los Angeles, and came back with a cassette of Mingus Ah Um that I still have today.
“You will love listening to this while you burn through the 5 on your way back to LA,” he said.
I loved the image of burning through interstate, just setting it afire and letting it turn to ash behind you before it blew away, having served its (your) purpose. It was so much more romantic and rebellious than the reality of trudging through mile after mile of “are we there yet” and cattle yards during seven monotonous hours.
“How can I get this back to you?” I asked him.
“You won’t want to,” he said. “I’ll get another copy. Forget it.” I can still hear the glee and enthusiasm that was in his voice. He was giving me so much more than a cassette tape.
Anne, Nolan, and I listened to Mingus Ah Um on the way home, and Howard was right. We loved it. I still love it. And I have Howard Hesseman to thank for it.
Rest easy, Howard. Thank you for being kind to me and my future family. May your memory be a blessing to others, as it is to me.
Discover more from WIL WHEATON dot NET
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Nice!
Awesome memory. Thank you for sharing!
May his memory be a blessing to all who knew him.
That’s a wonderful memory. Thank you so much for sharing it with us!
Love the recollection. H.H.’s Sharing Mingus Ah Um was a gift indeed. Hoping your mentioning it here inspires others to seek it out, you influencer, you.
Loved Howard Hesseman in so many things. I will now listen to that album. Thank you.
Lovely story, it fits that he was a jazz guy. But being a 70s/80s child, he’s always Dr. Johnny Fever to me 🥰
When I posted this on Facebook yesterday, someone observed that Dr. Johnny Fever gave me a cassette. I never thought of it that way, and now I can’t not think of it that way.
Was the movie “Boy’s Night Out”? IMDB shows the title with the both of you and director Yule Caise. Sadly, no pictures.
I linked the movie in the post, yes.
There was something about his eyes and his voice that made me love his presence on WKRP.
Your experience with him as rival drag queens sounds like a real hoot 😀 I’m glad you had that with him.
So I just put on Mingus Ah Um on YouTube and Wow… terrific driving music! The energy and oomph of it will definitely keep you energized. Nice, thanks.
💜
Great memory, Wil. My husband worked in The Committee with Howard. He has many fond memories of their times together. In my home he will always be remembered with joy.
That was beautiful, Wil. Thanks for sharing. When a well-known celebrity face passes, it’s all too easy to think only of their signature character — Johnny Fever in this case — but it sounds like the human named Howard was pretty damn cool as well, and that makes me smile.
Loved reading about your defining memory of him…and just kinda love your heart for other humans. You’re good people, my cyber-friend. 💜
What a great story! Thank you for sharing it here. I confess I’ve never listened to that music either, so I’m going to seek it out now.
I was a gifted student who really loved Hesseman’s Charlie Moore character on “Head of the Class.” I always wondered what it would be like to actually be in his class, and while I may never know that experience, I think it’s great that I get to explore the kind of music that Howard Hesseman enjoyed and which you enjoy as well. You’re two guys with very good taste!
Blessings to you, Wil!
I would simply LOVE to see a picture of you wearing those thigh-high, 10-inch platform boots!
So would I. I wish I could find one.
May he rest in peace, you are keeping him alive with your nice memory of him!
This is a lovely memory– thank you for sharing! Also, I love the art in the banner above the post.
I would like to invite you to virtually discuss you book at my library. please contact me or send me the name of your publicist. thanks.
Great story Wil. RIP Howard.