Back around 1970 or so, Peter Abbott told me that he was going to study to be a mime. We were hanging out at the Grafton Common, where everybody hung out in those days. "A MIME???" I asked, in utter shock.
He was completely absorbed and excited about this, however, and my unwillingness to put any kind of a dent into a person's aspirations immediately shut off the stream of earnest dissuasion that I might have otherwise started pitching to him.
(I'm no fan of mimes. Especially street mimes... the ones that would follow you around like a mirror, back in those days. They'd do it just long enough to dredge up some unconscious negative reaction in some people, and then leave them with it for the rest of the day. This sort of thing persisted in our culture to the point where, in the 1991 film, "Scenes From A Mall" Woody Allen's character says, "...I know how you feel. I hate mimes, too...")
"I'm going to France and study under Marcel Marceau," Peter said, that unshakable grin of his beaming the message that this was, indeed, a very important milestone and success for him.
Well, I gave him as much support and well-wishing as I could muster up. It was obvious that this was the main event for him. I liked Peter a lot, he was one of the crew, and he was just a great guy.
I never saw much of Peter after that until I moved to Worcester after my divorce. He was living in a loft studio at 100 Grove Street in those days, subsisting on air, good vibes, and a little help from his friends. He'd do pop-ins around mealtimes, and my apartment was on his A-list.
One day he told me that he had gotten a job as a clown with one of the (if not THE) oldest circuses in the world... in Denmark, I think it was. For me, this was "deja-vu all over again," only this time I had had enough experience with Peter's ambitions to not even blurt out "A CLOWN???"
That was the last time I saw him. He went to Europe, and the time passed to the point where one morning I stepped outside onto the street in front of my apartment, and was immediately struck with the thought, "Where's Peter?" It was a very confusing moment, because I was sure that Peter was right there. I felt him, like he was just about to walk up behind me. And it was urgent, too. He had something to tell me...
I read the news the following day. He had passed away.
It's finally happened, I thought. The heart defect, or whatever it was, finally took its toll.
The most significant event in Peter's life, as far as I know, occured back in the late 1960's when he was given an in-depth horoscope. He came to me with this, after he had had a chance to digest what it said. He was in such a state! The horoscope had apparently said when, approximately, he was going to die, and it was not in old age. Peter was very knocked off-center with this, and we talked about it for quite some time. This wasn't the first time that Peter and I discussed the various questions of the universe, and life's mysteries. But it was hardly the last time, either.
The last time was that day outside of my apartment on Highland Street, and it only lasted a moment. Then he was gone.
I have no pictures of Peter, and I could find only one on the net here, taken when he was enjoying a moment with Tiny Stacy and Jacob Knight.
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4 comments:
Peter Abbott was my first friend in this life. We went to kindergarten together in Grafton and used have private conversations during rest period when no talking was allowed. Even then he was honing the skill that would turn out to be his career: making people laugh.
I feel privileged to have seen the early stages of his best known character, Mr. Peepo. After he got back from studying with Tony Montanaro he showed me some of what he had been working on with Peepo. It is my guess that the notoriety of this character got him the gig in Denmark.
A warm thanks for the link to Pete's photo and your remembrance. Pete was a memorable guy.
Although Peter was always around and a part of my childhood and teen years, I never saw him perform once he studied mime. I think the last time I saw him was probably about 1970. I would have to say my most vivid memories of Peter are the jokes and cigs, hanging out for hours in Andy Cowenhoven's backyard chicken coop.
My parents and his mom were friends so I received periodic updates through the years, including the fateful news that he had died. I had long before moved away from Grafton and Worcester, but the news brought me back in spirit, as is did again more recently when I heard that Peter's cousin, and my old friend, Jamie had died.
We were so indestructible as teenagers. Who would have guessed then that some of us wouldn't make it until the end.
Like Andy said, thanks for the memory.
I met Andy Cowenhaven in Portland, Oregon as I recall in the mid 70's. I saw his name here and looked at his comment and imagined that he is the same person I met. Hoping that he might come back to this post and look me up. Dan Locke oohandaah@gmail.com
I am interested in info about Peter Abbott. My son who has just cleaned out a house has come across a bunch of stuff that may or may not have been his. There are multiple pictures, cameras and articles taken by Don Perry, who evidently worked for the Worcester T&G. If there is family who are interested in this, contact me at Waylon1@aol.com.
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