Laughing with my sister: Why I will always love Bob Newhart

Me and Bob in Chicago, 2010.

I loved walking in Chicago, especially on the paths near Lake Michigan. And one of my absolute favorite spots along those shores was where I met Bob Newhart.

Well, at least a bronze version of Newhart, sitting in a sofa chair on Navy Pier, looking both attentive and relaxed while flashing his warm smile that helps me feel more relaxed every time I see it, even on a statue. 

So of course I sat down with him, and had it been the real Bob, I could have told him how I loved listening to his comedy routines with my sister, because they were one of the few things we could agree on.

 

As complete opposites with little in common, we only played together because we were desperate for entertainment without a television in the house. And one day while digging through our parents’ records for anything worth playing, we found “The Button-Down Mind of Bob Newhart.”

That was cool.

Because listening to one of the routines on that album, “Driving Instructor,” created some of my favorite memories with my sister: Us not only both laughing, but both completely overcome with the same silent, seizure-like laughter that no one else I knew had. 

And while anyone watching might have thought we were convulsing with extreme pain instead of extreme merriment, I knew our bellies were shaking and our eyes were watering from joy. Finally, we had more in common than boredom. Finally, we felt like sisters.

So decades later when I found a Bob Newhart album when flipping through records at a library sale earlier this year, I could not resist buying it when I saw its tracks included my favorite routine. 

And in honor of Newhart’s death this week at the age of 94, I broke out “The Best of Bob Newhart” and listened to the entire record, not only finding my old favorite just as funny, but maybe even a new favorite: “King Kong.”

That was super cool.

Rest in Peace, Bob. And thanks for the “extreme merriment!”