Mitch (and that not bitch-made chump Albom, either)

This is an excerpt from the blog of writer Peter Hyman. He has an article in the January Spin that discusses a bit of Mitch Hedberg. This is from his personal Web site. It ends with a classic Mitch quote.


The Death of Mitch Hedberg: An Attempt At Some Insights

In the issue of Spin magazine that came out this week, I have a piece entitled "alt comedy goes rock and roll." It's a trend story on the convergence of comedy and rock and roll, and it looks at a number of comics who embody this spirit. One comedian who did was the late, great Mitch Hedberg, who died on March 29, 2005, in a hotel room in Livingston, New Jersey (nearly all of the original obits had this wrong, reporting his death as being on March 30th, due to an initial discrepency over the time of death; some continue to misreport the facts; others have the story right).

The article I had originally intended to write was a profile on Hedberg, and an examination of his life and perplexing death. For a variety of reasons, that piece grew into the article that ran instead. But as a result of my initial reporting, I uncovered the autopsy and toxicology reports, which were completed in early May by the State of New Jersey. Under the state's Open Public Records Act (OPRA), I filed a request for information with appropriate governmental agencies. Several weeks later I received the reports.

Sadly, they confirm what many suspected all along: That Hedberg died of "accidental" causes (as opposed to natural causes, as was originally reported). The cause of death was listed as "multiple drug toxicity," including cocaine and heroin. The autopsy is simply a statement of facts. It does not detail how or when or in what precise manner the items found in his bloodstream killed Hedberg. Nor do they account for how or in what capacity his heart condition (called peripheral pulmonary stenosis) may have impacted him, if at all. At least one doctor that I spoke to said the condition likely had nothing to do with it. Again, I am not making a claim either way. Nor do I know precisely what Hedberg was doing that night.
In fact, I was so resistent of making a judgment that at no point in the article is the word "overdose" used. That term has come via the Associated Press (and various others who picked up the AP story) coverage that picked up on my reporting.

As many of his friends and loved ones have said, how he died is less important than the fact that he was taken early, and that the loss is tragic. As a fan and an appreciator of his particular brand of genius, I agree with this. However, as a journalist reporting on a public figure, I do feel that the information reported in the article is both justified and relevant. I am sorry that the truth turned out to be what it did, especially for his family. I interviewed his parents for the original article, and they are kind, warm people. Sadly, Hedberg was planning to get help after the tour he was then on, according to what his mother told me. But taking a break proved difficult for him. As his fans well know, he toured non-stop, mainly because he wanted to constantly deliver for them. Like a spinning top, his existence seemed rooted in perpetual motion. Come to rest too long, and the laughter might stop.

Nearly everybody I spoke to about Hedberg suggested that he lived his life to the fullest, and was aware of the consequences of his actions. Despite what was clearly a dark habit, he seemed full of lightness and altruism, and tales of his generosity to fans and other comics are legion. Far from having any sort of death wish, he seemed instead to have a 'life wish.'

As many seemed to believe, he simply pushed life too far.

I do hope that the news does not serve as an "I told you so" for many who wanted to reduce Hedberg and his act to stoner babble (or whatever other stereotype people applied). That would be an unfortunate legacy for man who was so gifted, so unique and who, by all accounts of those I interviewed, was a truly kindhearted person (rare in everyday life; rarer still in the world of entertainment).

As for reasons why, perhaps Hedberg himself said it best: "I'm tired of chasing my dreams. I'm just gonna find out where they're going and hook up with them later."

I have a great appreciation for Mr. Hyman's words here. For a lot of people who didn't know or dig Mitch's work, say, some bored 50-year-old housewife in Indiana, it might look like "oh well, just another junkie dead." Which I guess is true to a point. But I'd like to think that that guy at least gave something in return. He made people laugh and, more importantly, THINK about what they were laughing at. Clearly, he liked to shoot heroin. And coke. At least he wasn't some shithead punker kid, or some fucking derelict crackhead, or worse, some Jager-guzzling, supersuburban sports bar caveman who never let go of the "the frat," some dildo with NO REDEEMING SOCIAL VALUE WHATSOEVER. Yeah, he looked and spoke like he was stoned all of the time, and he wore jean jackets and had kind of scraggly hair and he looked like the kind of guy who would glady front you an ounce. But he was 10 times funnier than fucking Jerry Seinfeld. Recognize.