I was saddened by the news that Farrah Fawcett passed away yesterday. She was such a gorgeous woman. I totally remember her poster in that red swimsuit. I remember her hair--I had my hair just like that in high school. I remember thinking that when I turned 30 I'd have to get the "grandma hairdo" until I started watching Charlie's Angels and realized they were all about 30 and had long, luscious hair. (For the record, I'm a bit past 30 now and still have long hair). I loved Farrah's smile--it was so bright and beautiful. I grew up watching her. She was diagnosed with cancer about the same time as my sister-in-law was diagnosed with lung cancer. Sadly, my sister-in-law succumbed after a valiant year-long battle. I had so hoped Farrah would beat it.
I was completely stunned by the news that Michael Jackson also died yesterday. Wow. Didn't expect that at all. I totally grew up with him. I remember him singing with the Jackson 5. I remember Ben, Beat It, Billy Jean, Rock with You. I remember being in my apartment at BYU when Thriller debuted and how exciting it was to watch the world premiere. Michael Jackson was on fire. Then he just got so . . . weird. It was sad, really, to watch his descent into bizarreness. He was so talented, gifted, and now that seems to be overshadowed by an ape, accusations, a dangling baby, a disintegrating face, strange marriages, surgical masks. He was so creative and, what a dancer--he had moves, man. I'm still in shock that he died. He wasn't much older than me (maybe I'm more than a bit past 30).
I found it interesting that Larry King said he'd planned a show about Farrah's passing but that was being tossed out in favor of a show on Michael. Our society is warped. How can one person's life be deemed so much more valuable than someone else's? Doesn't Farrah also deserve recognition for her life?
Both Farrah and Michael had fame, fortune, and the world at their feet. Yet, neither of them seemed to be truly happy. They both seemed so lost, so confused. They both had tumultuous personal lives filled with trials and tribulations, most of it plastered on tabloids for the world to view.
It's true. Money can' t buy happiness. Fame can't buy happiness. Material things can't buy happiness.
I hope that in death both Farrah and Michael will now find the peace and joy that seemed to elude them in life.