We’ve had our differences around these parts with the work of Kevin Smith over the years, but we’ve never wavered in our love of the man. This site probably wouldn’t exist without Kevin Smith. I’d probably be accruing billable hours in some two-bit law firm in Connecticut or something, but 23 years ago, Smith’s voice spoke to us (or at least, the old-timers here), and changed the way we thought about movies, about life, about comedy, about ourselves. I was hopping on a plane in Florida when I saw the first headline on Monday morning, “Kevin Smith Suffers a Massive Heart Attack,” and I was heartbroken on two counts: 1) That I thought Kevin Smith had died, and 2) that I wouldn’t be around to pay tribute to him.
Anyway, after clicking on the article, I was relieved to realize that we had learned about Smith’s massive heart attack from Smith himself, which meant that he survived it, which meant that I also got a reprieve on paying tribute to the man.
Anyway, he spoke about the experience on Facebook, and typical of Kevin, it’s 20 minutes of endearing, captivating rambling. And of course, Kevin’s biggest fear during the entire debacle was that the doctor would see both his stomach and his penis, and despite experiencing a massive heart attack, he fought with paramedics and doctors to keep both his shirt and his underwear on the entire time (and even his cap).
I get it, Kevin. I get it.
There near the end, Kevin also talks about how he felt in the moment when he thought he might die, and on a professional level, he felt what we all hoped to feel in that moment: Contentment. He didn’t want to die, obviously, but he was happy with what he’d accomplished in his life, and he absolutely should be. I haven’t liked anything since Red State, but the impact that he’s had on the lives of Gen X kids like me cannot be overstated.
Anyway, we’re relieved you’re still with us, Kevin, and we look forward to assessing your work, good or bad, for years to come, brother.