Though he touched my life much less than either Farrah Fawcett or Ed McMahon, I feel almost obligated to post about him and his obviously premature death. The premature part is what sets it apart from the other two even though Farrah was also too young to die.
Farrah Fawcett had a disease that’s, in reality, impossible to defeat. While it is a shame that she got it while so young, her death was not a surprise or a puzzle. Her life was much more of an open book to the public, therefore it did not create quite the buzz that Michael Jackson has for the last 20 or so years.
Poor Michael. That’s really all I can say. He apparently had a horrendous celebrity childhood and suffered even more as an adult celebrity. It’s far too possible that he was never allowed to be human. He has my sympathy.
But… none of the three have my worship or can garner enough caring from me for more than this post, acknowledging their celebrity. Really, they were only people I did not know but had heard of. None of them, except Farrah, made the slightest bit of difference in my life and her only contribution was a determination for a few months to copy her hairstyle. Quite unsuccessfully.
If I sound harsh and cruel, then go read the obituaries in any newspaper and tell me you’d hold a candlelight memorial for any of those people you have never met and whose families you do not know.