I remember that when Lucille Ball died, I cut her obituary out of our local paper and saved it for quite awhile. She was the first Hollywood loss I felt deeply. She was followed, among others, by John Ritter, Estelle Getty, and more recently Bea Arthur, all people whom I admired and whom I mourned.
This week was over the top. First, we hear of the loss of Ed McMahon. A gifted TV personality and larger-than-life figure, he will certainly be missed.
Yesterday morning comes the news that Farrah Fawcett has lost her battle with cancer...a battle she fought with spirit and determination. She was taken too soon and leaves a legacy behind.
Finally, on my way to work last night, the DJ on my local country station announces that TMZ is breaking the news that the King of Pop himself has died. Madness. I remember watching the "Thriller" video at my friend Lori's house...we were perhaps in fourth grade. I remember being jealous of my friends who owned one silver glove and REALLY wanting a pair of parachute pants. My sister was the proud owner of a Michael Jackson record player. "We Are the World" still makes me cry.
Today, a local station was playing a lot of MJ's songs, some that I had forgotten about. And I found myself getting surprisingly emotional, especially considering how many years it has been since I considered myself a fan. I am sad for his children. I am sad for his fans. But most of all, I am sad for old school MJ, who veered off the path many years ago but was recently trying to find his way back on it. Now, he will not have that chance.
Rest in peace, you three. You will not be forgotten!
-- Posted from my iPod touch