How wonderful life is while you're in the world

 Blogging is hard.

The reason I don't blog more often has nothing to do with my devotion to Bobby and everything to do with 1) making sure my grammar is decent enough for me to be taken seriously, 2) coming up with clever opening and poignant closing lines, and 3) fretting over content. 

No wonder the new social media driven world is pushing blogging out in favor of TikToks and Instagram accounts. For those, you can show instead of tell. So while I'm still over here telling, I'm also still putting off sitting down and doing this. But all things considered, I am actually proud of this blog and I'm honored to have devoted countless words to the memory of our Bobby. I'm just sorry to you guys for not being more present. 

Well, so lately I've been watching a few of the more recent Disney movies and thinking a lot about where Bobby would be and what he would be doing had he lived until now. I know I've mentioned this before in passing and made a couple of suppositions, but I actually want to spend a blog post thinking through what I wish would have happened from the very point he laid down on that cot to die all the way to nowadays--trying, as always, to stay in keeping with his character and personality. 

I share this as a tribute to both Bobby's recent birthday, and his death anniversary. I'm glad I'm at least doing something, because I've had alot taken out of me recently after having been treated for breast cancer which resulted in a bout of serious depression. Not only was all that awful for the usual reasons, but 1) for the first time, I didn't get Bobby's birthday cake baked on his birthday (a lovely "dark romance" cake this year - dark chocolate and raspberry), but I... and oh gosh, this bugged me more than anything... I forgot his death anniversary. That's right, folks, March 30th came and went and I was doing nothing but laid up in bed watching old episodes of Sister Wives. Ohhhh the sorrow when I came to my senses the next day! 

So here's my story! But please keep in mind a few things: 1) some parts, particularly the part where Bobby was saved from death, are a little impractical, but I did the best I could; 2) I'm not really mentioning his relatives in this as I'm not sure how those living would feel about a fictional account being written about them; and 3) anything I want to add will be stated at the end of the work. 

Hope you enjoy this, and please -- leave a comment telling me what you envision Bobby doing with a reinstated life! 

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If Bobby Driscoll lived past 1968, m a y b e... (disclaimer again: this is purely fiction!

Let's start this at a familiar place - the infamous cot where Bobby's life slipped away. I invite you for a moment to rewind the scene where the two little boys found him, to before he took his last breath. 

Bobby Driscoll was admitted to St. Vincent Catholic Medical Center (1) on charity after a friend came by to visit and found him lying unresponsive on a cot. He had suffered cardiac arrest and was mere hours away from death when heart surgery was performed to treat his blocked and hardened arteries (2). During his mandated week-long stay at the hospital, he went through a terrible period of detoxing from the substances he had still been using; after he made it to the other side, however, he saw the entire ordeal for what it was: a huge wake-up call. 

After his release from the hospital, Bobby was directed by the nuns to the Bowery Mission where he found a room to stay in and was provided the time to consider his next move. He didn't know much at this point other than that he wanted to contact his family when possible - especially his children - and he needed a job if he ever wanted money to rebuild his life and hopefully make it back home. Meanwhile, he made the acquaintance of some men who attended local Narcotics anonymous meetings, and they invited him along. 

Before he knew it, Bobby became deeply entrenched in the NA principles, using his underlined, dog-eared program book to help him keep his head straight. He took a good, if low-paying job on a construction crew as he regularly attended meetings and eventually was able to rent a room of his own as far away from all his old influences as possible. 

In 1969, Bob learned that his father was gravely ill, and he wanted to be sure to see him before his death. He puts all of his earnings together and manages to fly back home in time to say goodbye to the man who raised him. Afterward, he wasted no time in locating a new NA group to stay plugged into as he revisited the furniture-building factory he worked at a few years earlier. His superior recognized him as a guy who caused him a lot of trouble when he worked there years before. "Damn junkies." But he couldn't deny that Bob's work was always well build. Against his own prejudice, the man gave him another chance at employment. 

During this time, Bobby generally kept a low profile, using time away from work to visit his kids and create art. He still relished the art world, but knew the art scene before he left for New York, fueled by the Beatniks, was no longer a safe environment for him. Therefore he created his art mostly alone, moving from collages into abstract pastel pieces. He never became a famous artist, but was celebrated in certain circles. 

In 1972, Bobby was introduced by one of his NA buddies to the man's daughter, a mixed-race beauty named Vikki, age twenty-seven, who was a high school Typing teacher. Biracial couples were a newly accepted reality in California, but no one disapproved when Bobby and Vikki walked down the aisle a short time later. The couple settled in Santa Monica, but Bobby never forgot his beloved first wife and visited her often to check on her health. 

Once he was married, Bob felt more equipped to take on his children, who were by now entering their teen years. He regretted having missed so much of their lives prior, but after he'd returned from New York, the prospect of being a single father was daunting - particularly in a society where it was so rare. But as happy as he was when they were finally with him, he realized they needed to be provided for on a scale far above what he could do on a furniture builder and sometimes-artist salary. So in order to ensure that they could go to college, Bobby did something he swore he would never do - approach Roy Disney and ask if he could lend his services as a voice actor to one of the many animated productions the company was cranking out. The years since Walt's death were offbeat years for Disney, so Roy accepted the offer if it would bring in more revenue for audiences to hear a familiar voice. The days of studio contracts were over, so Bobby was paid per project. There was just one problem: he arranged all this before finding out if he could actually carry off voice acting. But he believed he could do it, and he did the work to make it happen. He called in a favor, and a retired voice acting coach took him on as a pupil. In no time at all, Bobby became proficient in various pitches, emotional delivery, and a couple of accents (he could only learn so much in these crash courses and he couldn't ace everything, could he?)

At first it started out small: he was given bit parts of side characters in Robin Hood, The Rescuers, and The Fox & the Hound. But it was enough work to help him build a sizable nest egg for his children - which was a good thing, because he and Vikki welcomed a baby of their own in 1975 - a little boy they named Declan in honor of Bobby's Irish roots.

Bobby's fanbase was never of exceptional size during his lifetime, but he always made sure his assistant sent those who wrote him an autographed print of one of his pastel works. The occasional interview would pop up, mostly to do with his childhood career, and he graciously accepted them in moderation. His interview style was relaxed and warm, and he gave honest, deeply insightful answers to any questions asked except for those to do with his family. He ditched his former young ambitions of being called "Robert Driscoll" and continued to go by "Bobby", simply because that was how people knew him. But in private, he was always still "Bob.' 

His pinnacle Disney achievement came when he accepted the lead, heavy makeup role in Rumpelstiltskin in 1993 (3), which was followed by months of intensive accent coaching. He later said he enjoyed the experience immensely and was honored to have been chosen, but it was time to officially leave Disney behind

Bobby enjoyed his retirement years and time spent with his children and grandchildren, working on his artistic pursuits and accepting speaking engagements on behalf of Narcotics Anonymous - which he devoted more and more of his time to as addiction in America reached its zenith.

In 2005, Vikki was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease, and Bobby faithfully cared for her himself with the help if a couple of devoted nurses and family members. She quietly passed away in 2012.

For years, Bob had distanced himself as much from Peter Pan as possible, despite his re-involvement with Disney later on. He generally disliked the image it gave him of a "man-child", and it brought back memories of such a terrible time in his life. But when asked in 2016 if he would agree to participate in a documentary about the making of the movie alongside Kathryn Beaumont and a few others, he graciously did so.

For the cameras, he reflected on his role with both thoughtfulness and humor, regaling tales of the live-action modeling done for the film. He told of toppling off of the window prop when pulling Wendy's hand to go to Neverland with him, and ripping his all-too-thin tights in an embarrassing place. It resulted in a beautiful commentary after which Bobby issued a mischievous wink to the audience.

But when released on the DVD, audiences would see a final note on the screen: just shortly after filming, in 2017, Bobby lost a late-diagnosed battle with Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma and was now resting beside his love, Vikki.

For years to come, Bobby was remembered by fans as a sweet but plucky example of how a person can reach their very lowest point, and rise again. Bobby had continually advised his fans and loved ones to ask for help when it was needed, and to be wiling to stoop lower than they might be comfortable doing in order to turn things around. 

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Notes:

1) In my research I learned that this was a sort of charity hospital that would have been close in proximity to Bobby during this time period. 

2) In the 60s, before the requisite medication and stints were available, pretty much the only way hardened arteries were treated was by surgery. I’m not at all sure that a person would receive such high level care at a charity hospital, but let’s just go with it. 

3) I just felt I should make something up here, so as not to shove over any of the actual beloved Disney film actors. 

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So there we have it! I have to admit, it was great fun to write. And I did as much challenging as I could of Bobby's personality and values.

It goes without saying that we lost a lot when we lost Bobby... and most of all, he lost a lot. There's not a year that goes by that I don't think of this. But we will always have him in spirit... and we always have our wishes and dreams for him.