DanMargarita.com

Normally, this space is designed to entertain you, but this week I beg your indulgence to allow me to talk about the passing of a dear friend, Bob Lazarus.

My friend, my proofreader and this column’s biggest booster, “Laz” as he was more commonly known among his many friends, died on January 4th, his 53rd birthday, after a long battle with leukemia.

I can’t remember where or when I first met Laz but I’m sure it was at a comedy club in Boston during the heyday of Boston Comedy in the mid-1980’s. Perhaps the reason that we soon became friends was because we always seemed to write the same jokes. In fact, that sort of became a running gag between us. While many comedians would be quick to accuse the other of stealing his/her material, Laz never did so with me and I knew he wasn’t stealing from me. We just happened to think along the same lines.

More likely, we became friends because Laz was the most likeable person you could ever meet. In the very competitive and sometimes cutthroat world of stand-up comedy, I never met anyone who knew Laz that didn’t like him. Nobody, period.

Laz had been in the business a few years when I came along, as one of the original Boston comedians that worked at the legendary Ding Ho club in Cambridge, Ma. That he was so beloved was evidenced by the hundreds of mourners in attendance at his service, with many coming from various parts of the country to say good-bye to their old pal.

When the comedy boom subsided and a lot of us had to get “real” jobs, Laz and I managed to stay in touch by phone and later, with the advent of the Internet, via email.

I emailed Laz when my girlfriend broke up with me several years ago and he called me right away to console me.

“Poor baby. I just want to cuddle you in my arms.”

He knew I was really down and he was genuinely sincere. Of course, Laz would laugh to read that quote, knowing that in context, it sounded better on the phone than it reads on the page.

When my father passed away last year, Laz sent me a heartfelt and beautiful email, while by this time, he was fighting his own deadly battle with leukemia. Laz braved two bone marrow transplants and repeated chemotherapy with courage, grace, dignity and of course, humor.

It didn’t take long for word of Laz’ passing to spread throughout the comedy world. The Internet blazed with emails as comedians who knew Laz shared an overwhelming sense of grief and loss at his passing, but also many wonderful memories of Laz.

For certain, nobody will be hurting more than his beloved wife Kathi and their 13-year-old daughter, Carly. While it may be a cliché, it is certainly true that Carly was the light of Laz’ life. Anyone who knew Laz heard him speak of her so often, with so much love and of the joy of doing the simplest things and indeed, just spending time with her.

I know that one of the highlights of Laz’ life was when he won Red Sox tickets last season in a Dana Farber raffle and was able to take Carly to her first Red Sox game, and I’m sure it will remain a cherished memory for her.

When Laz was going through his illness, dozens of comics gladly lent their time and talents to raise money with a benefit show to help pay Laz’ extraordinarily high medical bills. Anyone wishing to help out now may contribute to the Carly Lazarus College Fund, Kathi Lazarus, Trustee, and mailed to Rabbi Jonathan Hausman, Ahavath Torah Congregation, 1179 Central St., Stoughton, MA 02072.

The day after Laz was buried, the Red Sox made two free-agent signings. My first instinct was to want to pick up the phone and call Laz and see what he thought about it.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to make that phone call. I can’t say that I WILL miss Laz, because I already do. So long, Laz.