farewell Friday

I'm not one to cry over the deaths of celebrities but I have to admit that I cried when I learned of Farrah Fawcett's death. She'd fought hard and, as shown on her documentary regarding her fight with cancer, suffered terribly. I cried mainly cause I know how cruel cancer can be to even the most evanescent spirits in this world. I watched my best friend's beautiful mother suffer from the disease and tragically leave this earth all too early because of it. My friend's mother was 60 when she passed. Ms. Fawcett was 62.

The similarities end there, but Ms. Fawcett's death still hit a nerve, and I wish she could have beaten the disease somehow or have been given a little more time to try. She was an icon of my youth as I was six years old when she burst on the scene, feathered hair and all. I wanted to be her (or at least, look like her) and to women of my generation, she embodied all things blond, bold, tan and accessible.

R.I.P. Farrah Fawcett.



Then, as you know, came the news of Michael Jackson's death at age 50. I did not cry for his passing but like millions of others, I was stunned. More so than Ms. Fawcett, Michael Jackson and his incredible talent was something I couldn't have survived my teens without. I remember when both videos for Beat It and Thriller were aired on MTV (the original one that actually played videos). I squealed with my fellow 13 year old girlfriends when MJ swiveled his hips and jerked his head to the camera. It didn't matter that he was a little bitty skinny thing, he was a heart throb to us girls. We idolized him (and Madonna, of course) and I use to be able to sing along to his songs' lyrics as if I'd written them myself.

Michael Jackson's death seems impossible and freakish just as his life had been in the past 20 years. Really, the MJ from the 80s died a long time ago and some skinny white man with a removable nose took his place. That's my theory (and it isn't original). Now, that skinny white man has died at 50 and the world is mourning (according to every News station reporting on his death all day long). I think that's hyperbole to say the least. Iran and the thousands of deaths there are infinitely more tragic than the sudden death of one celebrity. It's such an irony to me that today when I finally get my TV antenna and can watch the news again (the antenna works great by the way), all there is to see are news reports about MJ, his death, his life, his fans, his doctor, his shrine, his debt, his items to be auctioned and his ability to monopolize our airwaves even in death.

R.I.P. Michael Jackson.




Although I did not know either of these celebrities, my heart still goes out to their loved ones and families who are grieving tonight. I wish them comfort and, hopefully, privacy to mourn away from the public spotlight and speculation.