HOW HAWKING STUNG ME WITH MY OWN CRUELTY
THE world of showbiz throws different people together. Every once in a while you meet someone and unexpectedly you hit it off. I had a close friendship with Stephen Hawking. Weird, right?
It was at an awards ceremony when I first spotted Professor Hawking and his lovely nurse. We weren’t at the same table but later, as I was walking around, I took the opportunity to introduce myself.
And then I started telling him some stories, hearsay about the people on stage. He loved gossip.
Then it was time to come clean about the insane letter I’d once sent him.
When I started doing comedy, I sent Stephen Hawking a letter. It’s a well-worn comedic device, a prank — send a joke letter, see if you get a funny response. The letter I sent out was pretty brutal. It basically said: ‘My son’s got a similar condition to you. He’s properly mongified. He loves to play. Could we set up a playdate with you and him?’ That was the letter. I know. Stephen sent me back this beautiful letter, which said, ‘You’re never too old to play but I’m afraid I’m very busy. Here’s a balloon ride, maybe he’d like to go on one. I went on one recently; they can put a wheelchair in the basket.’
He bought a balloon ride for me and my imaginary disabled son. That’s the thing with pranks — sometimes the other person wins. The joke had been about the inappropriate language but he took it beyond the language. Great.
When I confessed all that, I felt like the worst person in the world. I wanted a black hole to open up and swallow me — which I’m guessing he would have enjoyed seeing.
He said he vaguely remembered. You know, because mostly he thought about string theory and getting through the day, not hanging out with disabled children.
The day after the awards ceremony I got an email from him. He asked if I wanted to come to tea in Cambridge.
So I did. I went to Cambridge and hung out with Stephen Hawking. I had tea with him and his nursing staff and we chatted for a couple of hours.
The next time, he came to a show. By that stage he wasn’t eating out a lot. But I made a real fuss of going, ‘Come on, come out’. We had a really good laugh. And if you think you’re famous, just go to dinner with Stephen Hawking.
Everyone wanted to meet him. He used to come to my parties and I remember Elton John being really excited to talk to him. Everyone is secretly really into physics.
When Stephen Hawking was drunk, there was no difference. I guess the voice modulator doesn’t have a ‘slur’ setting.
He loved musicals, maybe because time literally slows down when you’re in the second half of Les Mis. I think partly he liked going because he knew it was a treat for his care team, who worked so incredibly hard for him.
The one that stands out is the time I took him to The Book of Mormon, one of the funniest shows I’ve ever seen.
Afterwards, he came back to my place for a curry. It was always super messy when he ate. There’s something about being a messy eater: it suddenly makes the interaction informal.
You forget that this guy is a brilliant and lauded physicist. You get to be friends sharing a curry and hanging out.
I still think of Stephen often. Whenever I’m tempted to complain about any little physical malady, I think of how grateful my friend Stephen would’ve been to have the opportunity to pull a hamstring.