Farrah and Michael Bow Out

What a day. Today both Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson died. Two icons, one of the 70s and one of the 80s, gone. I can't remember a day where two such well known celebrities passed on the same day. Very strange.

Fawcett, of course, is the Texas girl who made it big. She started by doing toothpaste and shampoo commercials and became a major television star and pin-up legend. Fawcett became almost everybody's favorite supermodel detective as one of the stars of Aaron Spelling's Charlie's Angels (I always thought Jaclyn Smith was the prettiest one myself). Despite becoming, by far, the most famous and popular "Angel", Fawcett's stint on the show lasted only one season. She made a few guest appearances in subsequent seasons but never was a regular again. Perhaps Fawcett will be best remembered for her iconic pin-up poster. The poster was not the least bit risque. Fawcett wore a one -piece bathing suit for Pete's sake. However, it featured her famous smile and feathered haircut that was the "Rachel cut" of it's day. The poster became a sensation selling more than ten million copies. My good friend Henry had that poster in his room. I remember well thinking that while Farrah was never, in my opinion, the prettiest woman on television that, somehow, they caught lightning in a bottle with that poster. There was also something very cool about Farrah and her husband at the time, Lee Majors. Majors was a big television star in his own right at that time as the Six Million Dollar Man. They were Hollywood's television power couple of the 1970s. Fawcett tried for years to get away from her "Angel" image strove to be considered a serious actress. She finally achieved that, to some degree, when she was nominated for an Emmy for her television movie The Burning Bed about an abused woman. Despite a second Emmy nomination later in her career she never completely escaped the shadow of her pin-up/"Angel" days.

Fawcett's death is a sad thing but, somehow, doesn't strike me as tragic. She had problems and difficulties in her life to be sure but died of natural causes at the age of 62. The death and, for that matter, the life of Michael Jackson reads like a Greek tragedy. Jackson became a star at the age of 8 as the lead singer of The Jackson 5. The group exploded out of Gary, Indiana and became a sensation. Jackson would go on to record 13 number one singles and have the best selling solo album of all time with Thriller. His popularity reached a hysterical peak in the mid 80s with the release of Thriller and the subsequent videos that supported it. Jackson, almost single-handedly, made the music video into an art form. I was a huge fan of Michael Jackson back when I was in high school. Two memories really stick out in my mind in regards to Jackson. The first is his performance on the Motown 25 television special. He was simply awesome. I had never seen anything like his performance and the performance has become legend. The second memory is how I got to attend the Jackson's Victory Tour concert at the Houston Astrodome. The tickets were a gift from my parents for my 18th birthday. I was on crutches at the time due to a knee injury I had suffered playing basketball so my parents actually had to drive me and my girlfriend at the time, Susan, to the concert. It was not easy getting around and to our seats but it was well worth it. Jackson's entrance alone would have been worth the price of admission. Jackson was later dogged by accusations of child molestation, tax and financial problems, and the failure to ever make an album as popular as Thriller again. I don't know if Jackson was guilty of child molestation or not. I do believe that where there's smoke there's fire. There was always a lot of "smoke" with Jackson and, I believe, something inappropriate and weird was going on with all of his young male friends. Jackson's story is one of a little boy lost; a man who never got to have a childhood and spent his adult years trying to recapture that time. Seemingly, Jackson was never successful in that quest. With his numerous plastic surgeries, sham marriages, and bizarre behavior he became a caricature of himself. People, unfortunately, will likely remember the tabloid "Jacko" more than the musical genius Michael Jackson. That is Jackson's legacy and that is his tragedy.

Both these pop icons were, in their own way, a large part of my childhood. Now two more small pieces of that childhood are gone. I hope they rest well.

Quote of the Week 7

"A government that robs Peter to pay Paul can always count on the support of Paul."

George Bernard Shaw

Life and Death in Temple

Yesterday my wife and I drove to the hospital to visit a couple of friends whose new- born baby boy is suffering from an intestinal blockage. Initially, there was quite a bit of concern for the little guy, but to everyone's relief, things are looking much better. We concluded our visit and headed back to the elevators to leave. That is when we witnessed something we are not likely to forget.

As we waited for the elevator, my wife and I noticed a large wheelchair-bound man. He seemed to be quietly crying. He sat there alone near the nurse's station for Labor and Delivery and I wondered what was wrong. Though we did not exchange any words, I knew my wife had noticed him as well.

Where was that elevator?

As we waited, an older lady came out of the swinging doors separating the old man from the delivery rooms. The lady came out talking a hundred miles an hour about the birth she had just witnessed. I assume it was this couple's daughter that had just become a mom though that was never expressly stated.

"The baby is beautiful and looks just like her", she said.

"Momma", the old man said quietly while looking down.

The old lady seemed not to hear him or notice his tears or cracking voice and continued to talk excitedly.

"He's tow headed and strong", she continued rapidly.

The old man tried to interject again. "Momma."

Again, she did not seem to hear him but continued to relay the details of the miraculous event she had just witnessed.

"She did great! You would have been so proud of her. She's worn out now but is doing fine", she gushed.

This time, with more force, the old man got her attention. "Momma!"

It was obvious something was wrong. My wife and I both began to feel a bit uncomfortable. Where was that stupid elevator? I pushed the button again.

We were not able to hear the next portion of the conversation as the old man relayed his news to his wife quietly. We averted our eyes to give the couple a semblance of privacy though we were only a few feet apart. It was only when the old lady nearly shouted at the poor old man that we learned what had transpired.

"You mean to tell me he killed himself? My brother has killed himself? Today of all days?" She began to weep.

Where was that stupid elevator?

The old man tried to comfort her but she would have none of it. She turned away from him and came toward my wife and me. She stopped directly in front of us and pushed the same elevator button I had been pushing. The elevator did not cooperate with her either, however. She put her head against the wall and began to cry. I wanted to do something but merely stood frozen and stared at the motionless elevator doors. I could tell my wife wanted to reach out to her. I think she may have taken a small step toward the lady but about that time the old man wheeled closer and again tried to offer some comfort.

"Momma, let me hold you", he implored.

She turned away from him again and walked back the way she had come and left him sitting there to cry alone in front of two total strangers. The misery of this couple was overpowering. Finally, one of the nurses who had been watching these events unfold stepped out from behind her station and took the old woman and her husband somewhere behind the swinging doors of Labor and Delivery. It was only after they disappeared from view that the elevator finally arrived and the doors opened. My wife and I rode silently down to the first floor pondering what we had seen and heard.

I have found it difficult to get this old couple out of my mind. I can't even imagine the mixed emotions this family must be enduring. I don't think I've ever seen pure joy turn to absolute misery so quickly. It was a terrible thing to witness. I ache for this family. What should be a joyous birthday every year will now be, at best, a bittersweet occasion. It was a reminder of how precious life is and how we should appreciate every minute we are given on this earth. Even more so, it was a reminder of how we should cherish our loved ones. After all, tomorrow is not promised to us.

My best...